


Resist Anything But Temptation

by Thai_Tea_Addict



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Blackmail, Dark Character, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, M/M, Minor Violence, Multi, Non-Consensual Drug Use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-24
Updated: 2012-08-24
Packaged: 2017-11-10 14:37:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/467410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thai_Tea_Addict/pseuds/Thai_Tea_Addict
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were dangerous but impossible to resist, Tezuka was interested and unable to say no. Ryoma didn't know what was worse: finding out Tezuka is cheating on him, or failing to resist the advances of four men who enjoy the chase.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: This fic will be DARK.
> 
> This is set in an Alternate Universe, so assume all the characters are strangers unless specifically mentioned otherwise. Some OOC, due to the different circumstances of the characters...
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis.
> 
> Pairings:
> 
> (main) Pillar, OT6, SanaAtoYukiFuji, SanaTezuAtoYukiFuji, mentions of SanaAtoYukiFujixMany
> 
> (side/implied/vague) Golden, InuKai, Dirty, Platinum, MomoAn, AkuDan, YanagiKirihara, many others

Under the glaring office lights of the partly-deserted 16th floor of Matsura Offices, Tezuka Kunimitsu wondered if it was possible to expire through the sheer boredom of emptily staring at his computer screen. He'd already completed what work he could do that day, and now - nearing 11 p.m. - instead of being home, eating a late dinner with his boyfriend, he was stuck at work waiting for his superior to finish the paperwork he had been putting off for most of the week.

He had entertained the idea of just bidding his boss a polite goodbye and escaping, like most of his coworkers had done, but he had been raised in with the values of traditional teamwork being one of the cornerstones to success - and dutifully waiting for his boss to finish up a task he should have finished two days prior was one such tedious duty of efficient teamwork. Tezuka's only comfort was that he wasn't the only one sticking to such a(n annoying) tradition, as four of his coworkers remained at their stations.

He glanced over at the man at the desk next to him - their cubicles (although they hardly deserved such a title) were little more than waist-high walls that kept them penned like petting zoo animals rather than afford them decent coverage from their peers - and tried not to glare jealously at the novel Yagyuu was leisurely reading. Tezuka knew he should have brought along his own book, but he had already been running late thanks to being (pleasantly) distracted by Ryoma during his morning shower.

"Given the rate Aoki-kachou is working at, I estimate he will finish in another 35 minutes," Inui intoned softly, writing some incoherent figures into a green notebook that Tezuka knew had nothing work-related inside. Yanagi, seated next to the bespectacled man, gave a solemn nod in concurrence as he continued his game of solitaire on his laptop.

Tezuka glanced over at the desk area diagonal to his own, briefly meeting the eyes of his best friend since high school. Oishi gave him a strained smile before his eyes were drawn back to his cellphone as it buzzed with an incoming text message. From what Tezuka had been able to (unwillingly) glean from accidentally overhearing his friend whisper-argue during their break time, Kikumaru had nearly burnt their kitchen down after leaving the meal he'd been cooking on the stove too long. Oishi, already a natural worrier, had nearly had a panic attack and Kikumaru had not taken kindly to being lectured over it. Tezuka knew they were already about ¾ of the way through their argument phase and gave it about another day or two before one of them caved and apologized.

Still, since his best friend was looking torn between bursting into tears or ripping out what little was left of his hair, Tezuka knew had to do something for the man. "Oishi, would you like to join me for a drink after work?"

"That's a great idea," Oishi sighed with a small, genuine smile - the first one all week.

Their three other coworkers looked at them pointedly.

"Of course, let's all go, ne?" Oishi hurriedly invited.

"I know the perfect place," Yagyuu said, and Tezuka had to fight back a scowl at the small smirk that rose to the other man's lips.

  


_

"What kind of bar is this?" Oishi asked, looking perfectly miserable as he sat hunched in his seat.

They had decided to forego the bar and elected to sit at one of the tables. This gave them a perfect view of the room; a relaxed sort of place with light-paneled flooring and dark marble tables spread out comfortably. A giant bonsai tree stood proudly in the center of the room as paper lanterns and dangling chandeleir lights kept the place lit. It was a beautiful place with a simple but aesthetically-pleasing design.

Tezuka could see why Oishi was complaining, however. "Is this a host club?"

Every waiter was male - and not just your run-of-the-mill college student trying to pay their way through school or parties, but absolutely stunning men dressed to the dollar and free with both compliments and sultry smiles.

"Not at all," Yagyuu responded with a straight face. Tezuka wondered how he could maintain such a bearing, considering the handsome man sitting next to him with an arm around his shoulders and looking seconds away from molesting him. Yagyuu had introduced the tall, silver-haired man as Niou - and according to Renji, the three of them had gone to high school together.

"We're a respectable establishment," Niou added smugly, one hand settled comfortably atop Yagyuu's thigh.

Oishi looked like he was becoming physically ill. "I shouldn't be in a place like this-"

"I told you, we're not a host club!"

"-Eiji will get the wrong idea!" Oishi froze, stricken. "He might even think I-I'm cheating on him! He'll leave me! What if he runs off before I can even properly explain myself? His closest family is in Shizuoka!"

Niou was watching Oishi go on in morbid fascination. "Is he always like this?"

"He's going through a rough patch with his boyfriend right now," Yagyuu demurred, giving the silver-haired man a pointed look to drop the topic. Tezuka was looking less-than-pleased and Yagyuu was trying to avoid causing a ruckus.

"Yanagi-senpai! You're here!"

_Speaking of ruckus..._ Yagyuu thought in exasperation.

"Ah, Akaya-kun, you're working today?" Yanagi greeted pleasantly. Another - waiter? Host? - took the seat next to the closed-eyed man, glancing over the assembled office workers in consideration.

"Eh? You came with your coworkers this time?" Red eyes lingered on the worried-mumbling form of Oishi, flicking over Tezuka's stormy face and Inui's bored countenance before settling back onto Yanagi.

"Don't I always come with Hiroshi-kun?" Yanagi pointed out.

Akaya pouted, "He doesn't count."

"I don't?" Yagyuu mused aloud.

"I have to call Eiji!" Oishi announced suddenly, shooting to his feet and hurrying off to somewhere quieter. Tezuka longed to follow him but knew he had to give the man some privacy.

"The point of going to a bar is to lighten up, Tezuka-san," Niou commented with a smirk, pouring said man a glass of - something. "I don't think you've stopped glaring since you came in."

"Tezuka is like that," Inui interrupted smoothly.

"Perpetual frowner," Yagyuu clarified.

"Even when he's drunk, he never smiles," Yanagi added.

Tezuka glared over at his coworkers. Clearly this whole 'teamwork for the good of the company!' expired after-hours.

"Want me to find you a... _friend?_ " Niou offered with a sensual smile.

"No," Tezuka replied sharply.

"There's a 64 percent chance Tezuka is asexual," Inui said.

_I am not,_ Tezuka mused inwardly. He didn't bother with correcting Inui, however; while they were good friends, Tezuka kept information on his intimate life to himself. Besides, he never really got over that whole 'data-collecting-to-the-point-of-stalking' thing Inui had carried out all throughout their high school years. He was a bit surprised Inui hadn't connected the dots, though - Ryoma had been in the tennis club with them. Sure, they'd only had one year together, but even now Ryoma remained in contact with the former data player. Not to mention that Oishi had figured it out - way back in high school, when Tezuka and Ryoma had just started dating.

"So, what?" Kirihara interjected. "He can't get it up or something?"

Niou burst out laughing. Tezuka was going to kill _all_ of them.

"I did not say that," Inui retorted.

"Well, how would you know? Do you guys-"

"Akaya-kun, perhaps you should not finish that question," Yanagi interrupted.

Niou didn't stop laughing. Before Tezuka could seriously contemplate taking the mostly-empty vodka bottle and beating the silver-head man's head in with it - wait, hadn't he been the only one drinking the vodka? How did it get that empty? No wonder the room's lighting was getting so blurry...

"My, what's going on here? You guys look like you're having fun," a soft voice stated from Tezuka's left.

Tezuka turned to see two men - dressed in suits, just like the rest of the workers, but even in his inebriated state he recognized the power the two had. He pegged them as the managers of the place, from the way the other nearby employees began to act more earnestly, the perfect picture of customer service. Niou and Akaya remained unaffected, but considering the former was refilling Tezuka's empty shotglass and the latter was cuddling further into Yanagi's side, perhaps such behaviour was considered appropriate.

"Yukimura-kun, Sanada-kun," Yanagi greeted cordially. Yagyuu nodded in greeting, as did Inui and Tezuka. "I'm glad to see your place is doing so well. It's always so busy when I come here."

The blue-haired one - Yukimura? - smiled, "Considering you only ever come to see Akaya-kun, I'm surprised you even notice anything else."

"Niou, behave," the taller one snapped, eyes glaring at the hand that had begun to creep closer to Yagyuu's inner thigh.

"Don't I always?" Niou grinned, batting his eyes faux-innocently.

"Tezuka, Inui - these are our friends Yukimura Seiichi and Sanada Genichirou. Yukimura is the owner and Sanada is the manager. Yukimura-san, Sanada-san, these are our coworkers Tezuka Kunimitsu and Inui Sadaharu," Yagyuu introduced drolly.

"A pleasure," Yukimura offered to the two stoics. "How are you liking the place?"

"Comfortable atmosphere and quality customer service," Inui replied, before noticeably turning his head to look at Kirihara. "For the most part."

"Are you trying to start something?" Kirihara growled.

"Sei-kun! Gen-chan!"

Tezuka threw back another shot as another person joined their ever-increasing party. He wondered if he should check on Oishi - hopefully he hadn't hyperventilated himself into asphyxiation - but doubted he'd be able to walk that far unimpeded. The room was starting to blur and tilt rather pleasantly now.

"You're drunk, Tezuka," Inui sighed.

"Am not," Tezuka mumbled, watching in appreciation as Niou refilled his glass.

"Tezuka?" the new person echoed, cutting off their conversation mid-word. "Tezuka Kunimitsu?"

Tezuka recognized that voice, he was sure of it. It took a minute of squinting and vodka-muddled memory lapses, but eventually the pretty face, soft chestnut hair, and startling sapphire eyes of the man before him became clear and recognizable.

"Fuji?" Tezuka identified carefully.

Fuji looked pleased to be remembered. "It's been a long time, hasn't it, Tezuka? You're looking good," Fuji's eyes swept over his form in appreciation.

"Thanks," Tezuka slurred. "You look wonderful. I like your eyes."

Yagyuu and Inui audibly choked.

Fuji glanced at the practically-empty bottle of vodka stationed near his cup. "Rough day at work, Tezuka?"

"I like it rough," Tezuka agreed solemnly.

Inui cleared his throat awkwardly, "I think Tezuka has had enough. I should probably escort him home."

"You don't even know where I live," Tezuka pointed out. "Do you? You don't, right? Have you re-started stalking us?"

"Sadaharu always was a bit obsessive about his data collection," Yanagi mused aloud.

"I did not," Inui replied to his former captain. "I was only going to follow your directions."

"I don't think he'll stay conscious that long," Yagyuu pointed out, obviously amused.

"So you like it rough, Tezuka?" Fuji asked pointedly, taking a seat next to the drunken man and leaning closer with a smile. "Do tell."

"I'm curious as well," Yukimura said smoothly, taking a seat on Tezuka's other side. "You're quite an intriguing man, Tezuka-san. What do you think, Genichirou?"

Genichirou remained standing, lips scowling, but there was a certain gleam to his eyes that didn't look at all displeased.

"I really don't think that's a good idea," Inui interjected on his inebriated friend's behalf. "Tezuka, shall we go? You can sleep over at my place tonight."

Tezuka thought about trying to stand - or, well, _tried_ to think about trying to stand up - before deciding it was far too much trouble. The seat was comfortable, the alcohol was plentiful, and Fuji - or was it Yukimura? Tezuka wasn't sure, both were sitting quite close - smelled nice.

"I think Tezuka should stay," Fuji said. "Let's catch up, ne, Tezuka?"

"Yes, let's," Tezuka agreed. "I'll stay for awhile longer, Inui. Please go ahead and find Oishi." Knowing the mother hen, Oishi had probably run back home to apologize to Kikumaru for imagined crimes.

"Oishi?" Yukimura echoed questioningly.

"Their hysterical coworker," Niou answered.

"Oishi is not hysterical," Tezuka said sharply, glaring over at the silver-blur that was the other man. "He's...He's- Inui, what is he?"

Inui grimaced, "He's currently having a fight with his lover. I really have to leave now, however - I promised Kaoru I'd be home before the last train."

Tezuka turned to Yukimura, and with all seriousness said, "Even though the name is Kaoru, it's actually a boy. Guy. Man? Inui likes men."

"Tezuka, are you sure you don't want to leave?" Inui tried, flushing.

"No, why would I? I like men," Tezuka said. "And Fuji is a man. With nice eyes."

"Thank you, Tezuka," Fuji chuckled.

Yagyuu snorted, "I can only hope Tezuka remembers none of this. He may kill all of us to preserve his reputation as the sane, normal one."

"Yukimura-san, you have nice eyes as well. And hair," Tezuka added, turning back to the other man.

"I'll be taking my leave, then," Inui said, exiting as the (sober) others bid him farewell.

  
_

"Did you know my favorite color is gold?" Tezuka asked Sanada solemnly as he took another sip. He'd been forced onto water recently but it still wasn't doing much to alleviate his inebriated state.

Fuji leaned against him as he sat back. "You're a talkative drunk, Tezuka? I never knew."

"We were in junior high, Fuji. We weren't allowed to drink," Tezuka pointed out. He blinked a few times, momentarily forgetting his train of thought as his surroundings became a bit clearer. The bar had already emptied out at this point - it was well past two in the morning now - and even though Yanagi had opted to go home an hour previous (Kirihara in tow), Tezuka was certain Yagyuu and Niou had been sitting across from him. Fuji and Yukimura remained sitting on either side of him, though Sanada had taken a seat in the armchair diagonal to his own sofa seat.

"That didn't stop us from doing other naughty things though, ne?" Fuji said, suddenly very close to Tezuka's ear. Tezuka shivered as he felt hot, moist breath against his ear but when he tried to lean away, Yukimura was already at his other ear.

"What kind of things?" Yukimura asked, voice low and husky. The tone sent pleasurable spikes down Tezuka's spine but the hazel-eyed man became distracted as Fuji's hand settled itself on his leg, fingers tracing an unknown pattern against his inner thigh.

"In second year," Fuji started slowly, smile growing across his lips as Tezuka remained entranced by his fingers. "After school, in the gym closet - he gave me my first blowjob."

Tezuka remembered that. He hadn't intended to do it at the time - he had actually just been about to lecture the other boy about so openly flirting with him during gym class - but Fuji had, like always, turned the situation to his favor. One moment Tezuka was kissing his then-boyfriend, the next he had been persuaded to his knees and was parting Fuji's legs so he could hear more of the other boy's delicious moans.

"It was wonderful, especially for the first time," Fuji continued, fingers trailing up and down Tezuka's inner thigh. Tezuka almost commanded him to go further up - but something was nagging at the back of his mind that such a thing was not a good idea. "Tezuka can do wonders with his mouth."

"I bet it's only gotten better, ne, Tezuka-san?" Yukimura suggested, before his teeth nipped playfully at Tezuka's ear. The office worker started, pleasure spiking straight to his groin as Yukimura began to softly suck and nibble at his already sensitive earlobe.

"I've improved as well, Tezuka," Fuji said, warm hand sliding off his leg as the slender man stood. Tezuka watched with hazy eyes dulled with lust as Fuji stood before Sanada, leaning down with both hands braced on the chair's armrests to engage the man in a deep kiss. Yukimura moved down from his ear to the curvature of his jaw, placing wet butterfly kisses all the while.

Sanada's hands - once settled in his lap - slid under Fuji's shirt. From the way Fuji moaned into their kiss, Tezuka knew those hands were teasing the slender man's nipples. Yukimura had moved to sucking at his neck, biting down at intervals that drew sharp gasps from the bespectacled man.

"Say, 'Mitsu," Fuji purred, breaking away from Sanada to cast lutful eyes over to the other pair. "Why don't you show Gen-chan how wonderful you are with your mouth?"

Tezuka looked back at Sanada. The man's eyes were half-lidded and he was panting slightly from his earlier kiss. He was as tall and broad-shouldered as Tezuka, but his skin was more tanned, his jawline more defined, and his eyes were bright with primal need. He was utterly gorgeous - really, all three men were - but something about this entire thing seemed...wrong.

"Your eyes are brown," Tezuka informed Sanada.

Sanada stood in one fluid motion, striding over to stand before the bespectacled worker. Yukimura returned to his own seat, Fuji coming over to straddle the blue-haired man's lap - although both still had their eyes on Tezuka.

"Fuji has blue eyes," Tezuka continued, before Sanada leaned down to capture his lips. The kiss was brutal - teeth and tongue and saliva - as Sanada's hands undid Tezuka's tie, handing off the garment to a smirking Fuji.

"Sei-kun's eyes are violet," Fuji supplied helpfully.

Sanada broke the kiss before roughly pulling Tezuka up by the forearms. Sanada swapped places with him, sitting down on the sofa next to Yukimura and guiding Tezuka to his knees. Once it looked like Tezuka wasn't going to collapse into a drunken heap, Sanada unfastened his pants.

"Ryoma's eyes are gold," Tezuka said lowly.

"Ryoma?" Fuji didn't recognize the name. Only natural, of course; after junior high, they had split ways, gone on to different high schools, had stopped all contact. Fuji had entered his school's photography club, pursuing what would lead to his future career - he had no connection with the tennis club.

Tezuka blinked, Ryoma's face coming to mind. Dark green hair, big golden cat-like eyes, lips pulled into a haughty smirk, muscles toned from long practice and excercise-

"Ryoma. My boyfriend," Tezuka said, rocking back suddenly. Sanada grabbed him by the shoulders to halt the movement, but Tezuka's hazel eyes were wide now. "This is cheating. I'm cheating on Ryoma?"

"You're drunk," Yukimura countered calmly. "You're drunk, you're horny, we're horny - it's just going to be sex, Tezuka-san. What's sex? Sex is just bodies mingling. How can it be considered cheating when your heart isn't involved?"

Tezuka frowned, mind slowed by alcohol and tempted by lust. "It's still adultery. Isn't it?" He looked to Fuji. Fuji wouldn't lie to him - they had been in love, once upon a time. They had split on good terms. No messy break-ups, no heartache - just acceptance of the fact that they would drift apart in life, probably to never meet again. There'd be no point, no reason for Fuji to lie now. Right?

"Sex does not always mean love, Tezuka," Fuji said with a smile. "Sometimes it's just pure physical release. This is not adulterous."

Sanada kissed him again. Released him. Tezuka settled more comfortably on his knees and leant forward without hesitation.

  
_

Tezuka awoke cold.

His entire body throbbed in pain; from the crick in his neck to the tips of toes, it felt like his entire internal system was protesting. His head was throbbing badly enough that Tezuka wondered if it would just explode and put him out of his misery. His throat was dry - his morning breath was anything but pleasant - and his eyesight remained blurred even after he'd opened his eyes.

_Glasses,_ Tezuka remembered. Where had the damn things gone? And where exactly was he? He couldn't really tell, except that he was lying on a wooden floor - completely naked. He knew enough to recognize he'd had sex from the satiated and tired feel of his body that had nothing to do with alcohol consumption, but there were a few pieces missing.

First, this was not his apartment. He and Ryoma had practically had sex on almost every surface in their humble apartment, so he'd recognize wherever he would wake. Second, there was the strange feeling of...utter brutality. His entire body ached, like it'd been put through the wringer. He and Ryoma had wild sex sometimes but never to this degree.

Third, of course, was Ryoma.

Ryoma was not a morning person. On the weekends he never woke up until almost noon - unless Tezuka made him - and despite being such an antisocial punk to almost everyone, Ryoma loved to cuddle. If they were alone, Ryoma would always sit right next to him; in the afterglow Ryoma would lay across his chest, head tucked under Tezuka's chin; and in the morning, Tezuka would always wake with Ryoma in his arms.

"Dammit, where are they?" Tezuka huffed quietly, an unsettling feeling pooling in his chest. If he could just _see,_ maybe he could figure out what the hell had happened last night. Aside from downing copious amounts of alcohol courtesy of Yagyuu's friend-boyfriend-whatever, Tezuka was having trouble remembering anything afterwards.

"Looking for your glasses?" a soft voice inquired.

Before Tezuka could hope to identify the voice, warm hands grasped his own before settling the cold feeling of familiar metal and glass frames in his hands. Tezuka gratefully put them back on, clarity and memories both returning with a vengeance as he met the softly-smiling face of Fuji Syuusuke.

Both were now sitting upright on the floor, clothes strewn about the nearest armchair. The couch Fuji sat propped against held Sanada, sleeping while sitting up, Yukimura's head cradled in his lap while Fuji sat between his legs. Both Yukimura and Fuji were completely naked, and Sanada had managed to pull on some boxers during the night.

Tezuka's brain froze, faltered - completely unwilling to process this information.

_I cheated on Ryoma,_ Tezuka thought internally, shock overcoming him to the point of numbness. _I had sex with these men._

_I am an adulterer._

Tezuka felt something in his chest twist. He didn't say anything, only turned around and refused to acknowledge Fuji in any way. He stood shakily, picking up his clothes and pulling them on as hurriedly as his shaking hands could muster.

_How could I be so weak?_ Tezuka wondered, anger and disgust flooding his mind, both directed at himself. _Where is my tie? - Ryoma will never forgive me! - How can I even face him? Especially like this? - Where is it? - I'm an idiot, a disgusting disappointment - where the fuck is it?_

"Where is my tie?" Tezuka managed to grind out, still refusing to turn around and look anywhere near the other men.

Fuji winced. He may not know Tezuka as well as he did before, but he still knew what people barely controlling their rage sounded like. Fuji picked up the desired garment, silently handing it over to the taller man. Tezuka took it without a word of thanks, but Fuji didn't let that irritate him; from the look in Tezuka's eyes, it was clear he was moving on autopilot.

Tezuka grabbed his briefcase from where he had left it leaning against the sofa, never giving Fuji another glance as he exited the bar.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis.

Ryoma scowled at what could be tentatively labelled as 'breakfast'. Granted, it was now toeing that line between edible and inedible, and also unwelcomely reminding Ryoma of long-gone days under Inui's sadistic training menus that involved bizarre juices that glowed.

Karupin meowed at the ruined French toast sizzling pathetically in the frying pan. Then, with a dainty sniff, the cat turned, hopped off the counter, and strode away. Ryoma would have been more offended, but he was too busy wondering if crushed garlic was flammable to give his pet's patronizing act much notice.

It's not like he meant to put the garlic in, it's just that he'd accidentally knocked it over...into the frying pan...

Ryoma wasn't even sure how to make French toast. He'd just been listening to Kevin bitch all day yesterday about never finding any decent breakfast foods in Japan - god, for a transfer student to the island nation, Kevin sure as hell didn't appreciate the culture at all - and had unwittingly reminded Ryoma of the long-lost breakfast of his childhood.

Ryoma had decided that he'd make French toast for his boyfriend when the man came home. It was Saturday, almost noon, and Tezuka had yet to show up - but Ryoma wasn't concerned. Tezuka had stayed at inns near his work before, too tired from overtime work to make the trek home after missing the last train. It wasn't common but it wasn't unheard of, so Ryoma didn't let it bother him. Since he didn't have any classes today, he figured he could have breakfast ready for whenever Tezuka returned.

If breakfast would just cooperate...

"We can go out," Ryoma decided, unceremoniously dumping the burnt, questionable squares of bread into the trash.

The front door opened just as he'd finished scrubbing the pan clean. Drying his hands on a towel, Ryoma stepped out of the kitchenette to greet Tezuka.

"Welcome home," Ryoma said, taking in the older man's appearance. He looked pretty bad; his suit was put on correctly but there was a rumpled quality to it, his hair looked like it had been hastily brushed into something resembling its usual style, and there was a deep exhaustion in the way Tezuka took off his shoes and discarded his briefcase by the entryway.

Tezuka didn't say anything - not even the courteous " _Tadaima,_ " - as he strode over to Ryoma and enveloped the younger man in a hug.

"Kunimitsu?" Ryoma asked softly, winding his arms around his lover's waist. There was the undeniable - near overwhelming - smell of alcohol, but Tezuka's breath didn't reek of it so he'd likely just drunk himself into a stupor last night.

Tezuka only hugged him tighter.

 

_

"You couldn't have waited for Ore-sama to join you?"

Atobe glared over at his assembled lovers as they ambled into the lounge room. He could tell by their disheveled looks that they had obviously enjoyed a romp without him, and nothing pissed him off more than knowing he'd missed a chance for truly great sex.

Fuji threw him a casual smile as he settled himself into a plush red armchair, "You were too busy fucking your secretary last night-"

"I was _working,_ " Atobe corrected primly.

"-and I had just run into my ex-boyfriend from middle school. Sei-kun and Gen-chan approved, so I thought we may as well have some fun," Fuji explained.

Yukimura hummed, taking a seat next to his diva of a lover and reclining into his lap with a sensual smile. "Tezuka-san really was delicious. It's a pity you had to miss him, Keigo."

Atobe scowled but gently ran his fingers through the man's hair, lightly massaging his scalp. "Then find him and bring him over. Ore-sama will not be denied when you all got to have a piece."

"You're just jealous," Fuji cooed mockingly.

Sanada shook his head as he perched on the armrest of Fuji's chair. "It was a one-time thing. The man's got a lover."

"When has that stopped them?" Atobe sniffed.

"Tezuka's loyal," Fuji replied. "Last night he was drunk. He woke up this morning furious."

Atobe just smirked. "Fidelity in this day and age? Don't be ridiculous - no one can deny Ore-sama," he sneered. "Find him again. Where does he work?"

"With Renji-kun and Hiroshi-kun," Yukimura answered, something dark settling into his eyes. Superficially-speaking, Tezuka really was his type; Yukimura always had a soft spot for the serious type - something about breaking their masks appealed to him. Then again, Yukimura also just enjoyed breaking people altogether, so perhaps it was something like that.

"Matsura Offices?" Atobe mused. "My family is a major partner of their's - this won't even be a challenge."

Fuji chuckled softly, "Tezuka _would_ be the type to be loyal to his workplace. He'd do anything for them."

 

_

Tezuka hadn't explained anything to Ryoma. The younger boy didn't even have the time to question Tezuka further, either; Tezuka had taken him right there in the entryway. Then he'd carried Ryoma to the shower and had round two, followed by the bed for round three. By the end, Ryoma had been exhausted and collapsed into slumber, grateful as his lover cleaned him up and let him rest. By the end of the night, Tezuka had made dinner and returned to normal so that Ryoma felt he had missed the chance to ask the man what had happened.

This did not alleviate Tezuka's guilt at all.

Monday morning came, and with it came work. Tezuka trudged into the office and shared greetings with his coworkers, relieved to see Oishi being his usual responsible self - at the very least, the man seemed to have reconciled with Kikumaru. By the unspoken agreement of years of after-work drinking tradition, no one mentioned their jaunt at Yukimura's bar and what took place there. All the better for Tezuka - he wasn't sure how much Yagyuu knew of his encounter, though it was likely the man didn't even know Tezuka had become something as disgusting as an adulterer.

Tezuka was still torn. On the one hand, he'd been drunk - there had to be some leeway for that. Then again, that also just sounded like an excuse to him, so naturally he could not forgive himself regardless of how badly the alcohol had impaired his judgment. He also had the knowledge that the incident would never be repeated; Tezuka would never step foot in that bar again - damn any future invitations - and he absolutely had no intention of meeting any of the men involved again.

He just wanted to put it all behind him. If he could forget that entire episode, he'd be perfectly happy. He had a stable job, he was rising at decent pace, he had a loving boyfriend, he had friends he could enjoy the company of - and then his damn ex-boyfriend got involved and it felt like he'd ruined Tezuka forever.

 _It never happened,_ Tezuka decided resolutely.

"Tezuka-san," a soft voice interrupted his thoughts. Tezuka looked up to give the girl his attention - Chitose Miyuki - gave him a pretty smile. The girl was popular in his workplace; she was young and pretty but friendly enough that she hardly made any enemies. Tezuka knew she used to have a crush on him, but that had ended a year ago after she'd gotten involved with the PR Department's Ishida Gin. This didn't seem to stop her from clearly preferring Tezuka's company over anyone else's, however.

"You have a visitor from Atobe Bank: Atobe-sama. He's the CEO," she explained quickly, her smile dropping.

Tezuka blinked, the only physical sign of his surprise. "I didn't have an appointment... Why does he want to see me?"

If it was a Atobe Bank liasion, Tezuka could understand; he often had unscheduled appointments with the bank's Mukahi, simply because the redhead deemed himself superior and appointments unnecessary. The CEO, however, should have been meeting with someone of a far superior status than Tezuka. And to come unannounced...

"I don't know, but he's adamant on meeting you. Aoki-kachou wants you to drop everything and see Atobe-sama immediately; he's _important,_ " Miyuki replied.

"CEOs are always important," Yagyuu interjected in a rare moment of nosiness. By the look on the other man's face, however, he seemed to know what was going on; a mix between exasperation, resignation, and disgust. Tezuka fervently wished he knew why. Yanagi and Inui were watching in clear fascination, but it seemed Yanagi was connecting the dots while Inui was left in the lurch.

"I'll be right there," Tezuka said, closing down the program he had been working on.

Miyuki nodded, "He's waiting in Meeting Room Four."

Yagyuu turned back to his work with a frown, "Be careful, Tezuka."

Tezuka tried not to let that bother him as much as it did. Following Miyuki out into the hall and then going their separate ways, he kept his face an emotional blank as he stopped in front of Meeting Room Four. With two sharp knocks and a curt announcement of who he was, he opened the door at his superior's call.

"Ah, Tezuka-kun!" Aoki exclaimed, a nervous smile twitching on his lips as he glanced from his subordinate to the two other men in the room. Tezuka only recognized one, but that still made his blood run cold.

Fuji smiled at him prettily from his seat, the chair of which he had positioned near the windows in order to get a better look at the city view outside. A Kodak camera was set in his lap, held carefully between his hands, and he looked like he was dolled up for work; professional dark blue dress pants and a white button-up he had tucked in.

The other man stood only a couple centimeters shorter than Tezuka himself, wearing a cream-colored suit and dark silver tie. Silver-colored hair that had nothing to do with age or dye was stylishly flipped, and the haughty smirk and confident stance was all Tezuka needed to see to know this was the famed Atobe Keigo.

"You can leave us, Aoki-san," Atobe dismissed imperially. "I would like to speak with Tezuka-kun alone."

Aoki agreed instantly, sweeping past Tezuka with only one warning look and a muttered _"Don't mess this up!"_ as he left the room, door closing behind him and leaving the three men alone.

Tezuka was as still as stone as he refused to venture further into the room. For his part, Atobe just looked him up and down, evaluation clear in his eyes. From the way they lingered over his face and body, it was clear he was pleased.

"Seiichi certainly wasn't exaggerating," Atobe drawled.

Fuji's smile widened to predatory levels, "Don't be so stiff, Tezuka. Won't you take a seat?"

"Why are you here?" Tezuka asked, voice cold.

"How rude!" Atobe snipped. "Ore-sama doesn't like that tone - change it."

Fuji just laughed. Tezuka maintained his stoic face, but it was clear from the darkening of his eyes that he was not enjoying this encounter. Atobe kept his eyes on the man, waiting for any sign that his order would not be heeded.

"How can I help you?" Tezuka managed to say neutrally.

Fuji looked out the window with a pleasant smile. "Your meeting rooms have a lovely view. I should take shots from this vantage point," he mused.

Atobe hummed in agreement, taking a seat at the head of the long conference table. He gave Tezuka another long look, before turning back to Fuji to address the photographer. "He seems to be a lot more agreeable drunk."

Fuji nodded, "That was the first time I'd seen him like that. He was even quite eager."

Now Tezuka felt ill. He didn't say anything, however, but he also refused to move anywhere closer - even after Atobe had waved for him to take a seat. The CEO just looked amused at the stoic show of rebellion and the office worker privately wondered if this was just some kind of game to them. Didn't they have jobs to do? Anything else but interfering with his life?

"Is your boyfriend that important to you?" Fuji asked quite suddenly.

Tezuka didn't even hesitate: "Yes."

Atobe tilted his head, damning smirk on his lips. "How about your job? It's a tough economy now, you know... Getting laid off is like a death sentence these days."

And then Tezuka could see where this was heading.

 

_

It wasn't his place to interfere. Yagyuu knew that; he'd never said anything before, so why start now? But this was different - this wasn't just some hussy they'd picked up, it wasn't some stupid sod who fell for their pretty smiles and stunning looks. This was _Tezuka Kunimitsu,_ his dependable coworker with the deadpan humor who was always willing to help out and back him up.

"Why Tezuka?" Yagyuu asked, voice low. He was speaking into his cellphone, avoiding other employees as he wandered around the lobby of the office building. A hot cup of coffee was clutched in his hand but it was little more than a reason to be out and about instead of working.

There was a pause on the other line. "... _This does not concern you, Yagyuu,_ " Sanada replied.

Yagyuu kept the scowl off his face but not from his tone. "You're fucking around with my co-worker, Sanada. Why else would the great Atobe-sama deign to come here?"

 _"I fail to see how this involves you,"_ Sanada pointed out curtly.

"It concerns me because he's actually a good guy," Yagyuu said. "He's not the type to be involved in relationships like...your's."

Another pause. _"...We'll see."_ Then Sanada hung up on him.

Yagyuu threw his coffee away without taking a single sip.

They weren't always like this, Yagyuu recounted. They had all been decent people, but it was like their introduction into the adult world had changed each irrevocably - and not for the better. They were each screwed up before they'd found each other. Yukimura and Sanada had been in their high school's tennis club - they'd made Rikkaidai famous. True, they'd only won second place in the Nationals - losing to Tezuka's Seigaku, actually - but they had been perfectly fine then.

Yagyuu knew Yukimura and Sanada had something going on, even back then; it was an unsaid accepted fact in the tennis club. He hadn't been surprised when they went to the same university and then started a successful business together; it had only seemed to strengthen their relationship. Yagyuu had once looked to them and saw a couple that would last forever.

But somehow in that cut-throat business world, Yukimura and Sanada changed. They all had, really, in a way; Yagyuu had cushioned himself with an indifference that had left his former lovers frostbitten until he'd met Niou. And just like Yanagi, he'd turned a blind eye to what his old friends got caught up in.

He hadn't warned Aoi Kentarou to stay away.

He'd kept his silence when they used Mizuki Hajime then tossed him away once they were satisfied.

He'd looked away as they destroyed Kisarazu Atsushi for daring to deny them.

They drew people in, willing and unwilling both. They played with them, satisfied them, corrupted them - and then they destroyed them so absolutely that their victims ended up as damaged as they were. It was a terrifying cycle that Yagyuu had been privy to countless times. Relegated to the role of bystander, he could only watch as people were trampled by their desires.

Yagyuu caught sight of Tezuka as the man stepped out of the elevator and strode to the exit. Giving it only a moment's thought, he quickly followed his departing coworker. Tezuka did not go far, stopping abruptly at a nearby bench that he stared at emptily for several seconds before taking a seat. Head bowed, he looked like any other exhausted businessman. Yagyuu knew that that exhaustion had nothing to do with their work, however.

Without a word, Yagyuu took a seat next to him. He pulled out a carton of cigarettes - a habit he'd picked up after Niou said he hated the smell of it. Tapping one out, he lit it up without preamble and took a long drag. Even with the strong scent, it couldn't quite hide the smell of sex on the other man.

Yagyuu took another long drag, letting the smoke blow over to Tezuka as if it'd cleanse him. Yagyuu didn't look at his coworker, keeping his eyes up at the sunny sky that was so at odds with their life right now.

"You can't get rid of them," Yagyuu started. Tezuka flinched but didn't look up, even as Yagyuu continued on. "They're used to getting what they want."

"I can tell," Tezuka said, voice dangerously devoid of emotion.

Yagyuu cracked a smile. It was refreshing, to hear the opinion of someone not caught in their web. It was their kind of game; seducing others, convincing the ones they ensnared that they wanted it in the first place. Unfortunately, Tezuka's reluctance and growing disdain would only intrigue them more.

"I have a lover," Tezuka said, much quieter but not inaudible.

 _Ah,_ Yagyuu thought, finally understanding. _That will only make this infinitely more painful._

"They won't care," Yagyuu pointed out.

"I know."

Yagyuu took another drag. He wondered what Yanagi thought of all this; he knew that his intelligent ex-teammate had figured out the foursome's newest target. He'd been just as much an audience member to prior shows as Yagyuu had been. Would he tell Inui? Would that change anything?

 _No, of course it wouldn't,_ Yagyuu mused. _They can even trap the ever-noble Tezuka Kunimitsu._

"Disgusting, aren't they?" Yagyuu said conversationally.

After a moment, Tezuka answered hollowly, "They're absolutely vile."

 

_

Ryoma had been distracted all day. He couldn't concentrate on any of his professors' lectures - and _wow,_ Sakaki-sensei had not taken that inattention kindly - to the point that even Kintarou noticed. When oblivious Tooyama Kintarou can tell you're distracted, you know that something is seriously wrong.

"Did you want to get a bite to eat, Takeuchi-kun?" Tanaka Kouhei asked, grabbing Ryoma's attention.

"Whatever," Ryoma agreed.

Kouhei's twin - Youhei - rose an eyebrow at him. "Something bothering you? You'd think Sakaki-sensei pelting you with that piece of chalk earlier would have kicked your mind back into gear..."

Ryoma didn't answer him. Like he was really going to explain to them that he was worrying over his lover. Even as distracted as Ryoma was during their lovemaking, there was no way he was going to _not_ see all those bruises marring Tezuka's skin. Any questions he was going to ask were drowned out by his own moans, and by the time he had gathered back his scattered senses, he'd had enough time to really think it through; what if Tezuka had been mugged? And his pride was keeping him from saying anything? It didn't look like anything had been stolen - Ryoma had even checked Tezuka's wallet to make sure everything was there - so perhaps Tezuka had fought them off and decided not to say anything to Ryoma in fear of worrying him?

That didn't stop him from worrying _now,_ though.

"Let's all go out for lunch!" Urayama Shiita exclaimed cheerfully, popping out from fucking nowhere and scaring Ryoma half to death.

As if drawn by the siren call of food, all of their friends converged on their usual meeting spot. Sakuno and Tomoka - the only girls - were quick to show up, Tomoka mercifully leaving her newest fling of a boyfriend out. Kachirou greeted them all happily, Katsuo and Horio arguing behind him over the newest episode of a show they both watched.

"Where's Kintarou?" Tomoka asked, glancing around irritably. For some reason, the redhead rubbed the girl in all the wrong ways; Ryoma privately thought it was sexual frustration. Kintarou was one of the few (straight) boys that had rejected her advances - mostly stemming from his obliviousness, but that still pissed Tomoka off.

"We're heeeeeeeere!"

Dan Taichi greeted them by launching a hug at Ryoma - which he took with the sort of long-suffering resignation that spoke of being used to such greetings. Kintarou, who had been pulled along by the chipper boy, was practically hopping in place as he bemoaned his hunger.

"I'm tired of the usual places. Anyone know any place new?" Tomoka huffed, stepping away from Kintarou with a sneer that the redhead didn't notice.

Shiita shot up, waving around his hand like an eager schoolboy.

"Shiita-kun," Youhei called dryly.

"We can go to my senpai's place!" Shiita suggested. "It's like a retro diner or something."

"Thanks for clarifying nothing with that description," Kouhei deadpanned.

Tomoka shrugged, "As long as it's not convenience store-bentou or sushi. Why the hell do universities only have those kinds of places around them?"

With vague agreement leading them, they followed Shiita's suggestion. While the place wasn't close enough to walk to, it was a short train ride away and they could all endure another hour of hunger as long as it meant no more instant food.

The place wasn't that busy, but Ryoma had glanced at the hours as they'd entered the restaurant. The place seemed to be a normal restaurant in the daytime, then a bar late-night. Ryoma could see some of the bar-elements, as the tables were pretty low and the chairs were plush and vibrant against the flooring and dark-paneled walls. The chandeliers and paper lanterns that provided low-key lighting were hung low but the overall atmosphere was pretty comfortable. At the very least, it wasn't the blindingly bright and cheery background of the tea shop they usually took a break at.

"This is pretty nice," Kachirou said, giving his surroundings an appreciative eye. They were led to sit at a large table in the corner, away from the few other customers currently present. Their waiter appeared shortly, a bald, well-dressed man with dark skin.

"Jackal-senpai!" Shiita greeted. "How are you?"

The waiter blinked, taken aback at the sight of someone he knew. "Urayama-kun? It's been a long time," he said with a smile.

"I wish I could come more often, but you know how school is," Shiita shrugged good-naturedly. "These guys are my friends. This was my senpai in my high school tennis club, Kuwahara Jackal," Shiita introduced.

"Hello!"

"Nice to meet you."

"Yo."

"If I don't get some fucking food real soon..."

Shiita seemed unperturbed by the lack of respectful greetings, and the only sign that Jackal was disgruntled was the slight twitch in his polite smile. Ryoma didn't think the man had any right to feel annoyed - at least they hadn't brought Kevin. The blond was the rudest among them, but today he'd been forced to go on a Culture Tour that was mandatory for all international students. ("Explain to me how the _fuck_ knowing how to pray at a Shinto shrine is at all pertinent to working as a translator for a company? Seriously, _what the fuck is this shit?")_

At the very least, Jackal was quick to take orders and they soon had their drinks and were content enough not to harass the man further. (It helped that Kachirou would always lecture them if they got too catty.) Idly sipping at his grape ponta, Ryoma let his eyes wander about the restaurant as his friends dissolved into an argument about which movie they wanted to see this weekend.

He soon met violet eyes.

Ryoma - being Ryoma - didn't back down from the stare, even knowing it was rude but not caring one bit. The eyes belonged to a fragile-looking man with dark blue hair, wearing dark jeans and a simple black button-up. He seemed to hold a position of power, as waiters passing him by often stopped to trade a few words before continuing on. The man next to him looked like the manager - he wore the dress pants and collared shirt - but even he deferred to the smaller one. Ryoma also met his eyes, as he'd followed his companion's gaze over to Ryoma.

Ryoma was mildly startled when both men started to approach their table. Shiita shot up once he'd caught their approaching figures, bowing instantly and with a wide smile. "Yukimura-senpai! Sanada-senpai!"

"Ooh, _cute,"_ Tomoka murmured under her breath.

"And gay," Youhei pointed out quietly with a smirk.

Tomoka sniffed, "All the cute ones are." Her eyes slid over to Ryoma.

"Urayama-kun, so nice to see you," Yukimura said, warm smile on his lips. Ryoma thought it seemed at odds with the predatory look in the man's eyes yet he was the only one that had noticed. The blue-haired man's eyes swept over everyone at the table but Ryoma didn't miss the way Yukimura's eyes lingered on him. For one terrifying moment, he wondered if the othr man recognized him - because he sure as hell recognized Yukimura.

Captain of the former Rikkaidai tennis club, Ryoma had faced him and scraped a win at the Kantou tournament in his first year. The other man had one of the scariest techniques during that time. He was a great tennis player - the only reason Ryoma bothered to remember him. The other man - Sanada - was the one he faced at Nationals, as Yukimura had been indisposed at the time.

Yukimura's gaze may have lingered, but what lit up in his eyes wasn't recognition - it was lust. Ryoma recognized it well enough, because contrary to what most of his upperclassmen had thought, he wasn't oblivious; he just really didn't care. Lust could be ignored.

" _Chikudai(1)!_ Isn't he the one you beat at Nationals?" Kintarou pointed out loudly. Ryoma hit him for bringing it up, having revelled in the anonymity for the moment it lasted.

Yukimura blinked. "Nationals?"

He seemed to use this as an excuse to give Ryoma a slow once-over that the boy felt had nothing to do with any tennis-related match and everything to do with the man's libido.

"Echizen, that freshman from Seigaku," Sanada intoned, finally attaching a name to the face. He couldn't recall the boy's first name but at least he recognized the young prodigy from the match that had made their high school club lose their claim to first place.

Everyone at the table stilled, tension rising in the air as all eyes flickered to Ryoma before looking anywhere but at him or Sanada.

"Don't call me that," Ryoma bit out coldly.

"Takeuchi-kun," Sakuno tried to placate, but she was ignored as the boy stood and brushed past a confused Sanada and Yukimura, heading in the direction of the bathroom. Yukimura's eyes followed the boy's stormy trek in interest.

Jackal came out from the kitchen at that point, carrying two trays of orders and looking surprised at the silence that had descended on the previously-rowdy table.

"I suppose we'll leave you to enjoy the food," Yukimura said, a professional's smile on his lips as he bid his former underclassman a farewell, Sanada shadowing his every step.

As the others started in on their meal, eager to leave the awkwardness behind, Dan watched the two men head to the bathroom with a frown on his face.

 

_

Ryoma glared at his reflection in the mirror. Being called 'Echizen' left a foul taste in his mouth as bitter memories begged for his attention in his mind. It had taken awhile to get used to being referred to as 'Takeuchi'; he'd dropped 'Echizen' after graduating from high school, not wanting the rabid tennis fans and reporters ( _Stupid Inoue!_ ) following him into college and disrupting what should have been a fun and private time for him. He couldn't handle the legacy his father had left behind after his death in Ryoma's second year of high school.

Echizen Nanjiroh had died horrifically, and with him went every dream Ryoma had of becoming a pro tennis player. He'd taken up his mother's maiden name to shake off the sleazy reporters who couldn't let go. He'd thanked every god that after puberty hit, he had changed so significantly that even former tennis rivals from his first year had a hard time recognizing him. Inui's milk diet had added the muscle and the height, and he'd lost the baby fat so that his features became much more defined. Tomoka had once called him 'tragically beautiful', but Ryoma hadn't understood the description. The girl had waved him off with a sad smile in lieu of an explanation.

"I daresay that mirror didn't do anything to you."

Ryoma turned to regard the owner of the unwanted remark. Yukimura gifted him with an innocuous look as Sanada closed the bathroom door behind him. The man leaned against it casually, as if he wasn't cutting off Ryoma's one escape route.

"Harassing customers isn't a good selling point," Ryoma said snidely, turning back around and turning on the faucet. At least then he could pretend he had been in here doing business instead of sulking in front of a mirror.

Ryoma should have known never to turn your back on someone as unpredictable as Yukimura.

Hands slammed against the mirror on either side of Ryoma's head. Hot breath blew against the back of his neck from where he had his head bowed and he could feel Yukimura's chest and groin brush up against his backside. (It really was unfair that, even after all the centimeters he had put on, he still remained several centimeters shorter than the other man.) Ryoma didn't move - didn't so much as flinch - as he continued to calmly wash his hands.

"Puberty has been kind to you," Yukimura's voice was low and husky in his ear. Ryoma threw him an annoyed glance in the reflection of the mirror. The blue-haired man was undeterred, one hand settling on Ryoma's hip with a tight, possessive grip. "I wonder if it has been just as kind elsewhere."

Ryoma couldn't help it - he laughed.

Yukimura was thrown off by the response, as the younger man could tell from the widened eyes. This just made Ryoma laugh harder and he had to brace himself on the sink as his laughter subsided into low chuckles.

"Was that your idea of a pick-up line?" Ryoma snorted, the last of his sniggers dying out. "That's the kind of thing sleazy old men say to hookers, isn't it? I guess you have a lot of practice with that, Yukimura-san?"

Yukimura's eyes narrowed. Sanada didn't shift from his position at the door, watching the interaction with sharp eyes. He couldn't intervene, in any case; someone had to block the door and not allow others entrance as Yukimura had his fun.

"Would you prefer something more romantic?" Yukimura asked softly, mockingly.

Ryoma twisted around, smirk on his lips as their close proximity gave Yukimura a brush of intimate contact. Ryoma leaned back so that his elbows supported his weight, braced against the sink. He tilted his head up to match the violet-eyed stare, smirk widening as the lust grew in the older man's eyes at this new position - it really was quite open and inviting, Ryoma knew.

"Flowers and chocolates," Ryoma started smoothly, reaching out to play with the top button of Yukimura's shirt. "Maybe a teddy bear the size of a horse."

He undid the button, keeping his eyes even with Yukimura's. "A candlelit dinner, a walk on the beach, a dozen hand-written love letters..."

The second button was undone now, allowing Ryoma access to the man's collarbone. Ryoma traced it slowly as Yukimura leaned closer in. _Almost..._

"Buy me enough jewelry to shine like the sun," Ryoma braced himself, shifting all of his weight onto one foot as Yukimura drew closer. Sanada's eyes widened as he realized what the younger man was planning, but before he could warn his lover, Ryoma drew his dominant leg back and kicked forward - hitting right between Yukimura's legs.

Yukimura toppled to the side with a choked gasp, eyes comically wide as his hands instantly came late to the defense. Ryoma darted away as Sanada rushed forward to check on the blue-haired man, leaving Ryoma free to rush to the exit.

"But never serenade me. I fuckin' hate romantic songs," Ryoma called back cheerfully, sliding out the door before Sanada could even turn around. Neither man followed him out of the bathroom - Ryoma kicked _hard_ and Sanada obviously prioritized Yukimura's well-being over revenge - so Ryoma hurried to the table where his friends were more than half-way through their meals.

"What the hell were you doing in the bathroom for so long?" Kouhei asked once he'd reached them. All eyes turned to Ryoma as he grabbed his backpack, tugging it on and glancing back at the bathroom to make sure he was still safe.

"Urayama, I kicked your senpai in the balls," Ryoma said shortly, causing said boy to choke on his next bite of sandwich. "He's a creep. I'm leaving now. If any of you tell them where to find me, I'll kill you. See you guys tomorrow."

Ryoma high-tailed it out of there amidst the dumbfound silence of his friends. Just as he'd walked out the exit, Yukimura and Sanada came storming out of the bathroom with murder written all over their faces.

Ryoma gave them a jaunty wave before speeding off, getting lost in the midday crowds before they could even step out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The freshmen group in Prince of Tennis has all my love. XD
> 
> (1) "Chikudai": The kanji for Takeuchi (竹内) can be incorrectly read as Chikudai. Kintarou is terrible with kanji, so he'll often misread them. In this fic's universe, being a friend of Ryoma's and now a university student, he only uses "Chikudai" as a nickname for Ryoma and to poke fun at himself for having misread the original "Echizen." Originally, I had planned for Kintarou to continue to use "Koshimae," but I figured Ryoma would still recognize it as "Echizen" and become angry.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis.

Yukimura was on the warpath.

Niou hadn't been able to glean much as to why. Sanada was as tight-lipped as ever and all of the day-time employees were as confused as the night-time ones. Jackal had not been helpful; according to the Brazilian man, their former underclassman visited with a bunch of his college buddies for lunch and one of them had upset the blue-haired owner of the bar.

Yukimura on the warpath was _hilarious._

"He's locked himself in his office," Niou said cheerfully, pouring his companion a small cup of sake. Yagyuu looked as vaguely interested as he always did, although he was deliberately ignoring Sanada's very existence in the corner of the bar. Niou hadn't asked, chalking it up to his boyfriend's usual indifference. "I think I heard him trying to convince Atobe to look for Urayama's little friend. Yukimura wants _blood."_

Yagyuu gave this consideration, "...His advances were likely rejected. I'm surprised Urayama's friend could get away with denying Yukimura in his own territory."

"Shit, really?" Niou cackled. Like most - if not all - of the employees of Yukimura's bar, Niou knew exactly what his boss and his lovers got up to. He'd had to personally throw out some of their clingier conquests, much to his chagrin. Yagyuu hadn't looked very sympathetic to Niou's plight when the silver-haired man complained to him about it, but Yagyuu had stopped being completely indifferent to the matter after one of the conquests had killed himself in the bar while the bespectacled office worker had been present.

"Why didn't he just pressure Urayama for the information?" Yagyuu inquired.

"Jackal said the kids beat a hasty exit," a new voice interrupted.

Marui threw himself into the sofa across from them, reclining luxuriously as he gave his two gossiping friends a cocky smile. Following the redhead was the yawning, slouched form of Akutagawa Jiroh. The blonde gave his lover a plaintive look before, with a small shrug, climbed atop the redhead and stretched out.

"They escaped?" Niou jeered. "I'm surprised Sanada let them!"

Yagyuu snorted, "They couldn't exactly hold them hostage."

Marui didn't add anything else, running a hand through his boyfriend's hair and keeping a careful eye on the frowning figure of Sanada across the room. He glanced at his two friends with a curious look in his eyes.

"Jiroh heard something interesting," Marui started. The blonde laying across his chest was already fast asleep, despite the chatter that filled the bar. "Atobe paid a personal visit to Matsura Offices? With _Fuji?"_

Yagyuu barely restrained a scowl. Niou did a full-body pause, eyes swiveling to lock onto his lover's form with a raised eyebrow.

"Kachou was pleased," Yagyuu muttered.

"I've seen Aoki, and he's no looker," Marui replied. "Do you know who their latest toy is?"

Yagyuu drained his sake cup, allowing Niou to pour him another and draining it just as quickly. "Unfortunately. I can only hope they tire of him quickly - he's not handling their attentions well."

"It's Tezuka, isn't it?" Niou murmured.

Yagyuu gave a sharp nod.

Marui hummed, not recognizing the name. "He's not keen for their affection? That's a rare breed," the redhead mused.

"Tezuka-san has the unfortunate disposition of being a decent person," Niou sniggered.

Yukimura came stalking out of his office at that point. His employees noticeably avoided going near him, although the blue-haired man did nod politely in greeting to some of his regular customers. His intention was clear as he stopped in front of Sanada to trade a few words with his taller lover. Slowly, a devious was growing on Yukimura's lips as he continued speaking, Sanada nodding in understanding every now and then.

"Guess he found who he was looking for," Niou observed.

Yagyuu downed another glass.

 

_

"Tadaima," Tezuka called out.

It was almost 10 p.m. now - early, in comparison to most of his nights. He'd forsaken his usual tradition of waiting for Aoki to finish his work first, not having enough energy or even care to wait for his lazy boss. Inui had nearly had a heart attack when Tezuka had excused himself, and the brunette had to avoid Oishi's alarmed and worried look as he left. As it was, he just felt so disgusting right now that staying any longer at work would have driven him mad.

"Welcome back," Ryoma replied, stepping into the entryway. He was wearing nothing but his pajama bottoms, hair slightly damp from his bath but still looking very much alert. Golden eyes looked Tezuka over critically for a moment before the owner reached his decision.

"Go take a shower, Kunimitsu," Ryoma said, giving his lover a chaste peck on the cheek. "I'll make you something to eat. Is stir-fry okay?"

"Perfect," Tezuka murmured, pulling the younger man in for a slow kiss before he could head to the kitchen. Ryoma answered willingly, smiling into his lover's lips as Tezuka slipped a hand around his waist to draw them closer. After several moments, they drew apart - Tezuka's eyes never losing contact with Ryoma's as he continued to hold the younger man.

"Shower," Tezuka mumbled after a lengthy pause.

Ryoma rose a teasing eyebrow. "Was that a reminder or an invitation?"

Tezuka's eyes darkened considerably in want, before something seemed to occur to the man. Almost immediately, he drew back; dropping his possessive hold of Ryoma and taking a few steps away. Ryoma didn't say anything but his smile vanished as he stared up at Tezuka questioningly.

"I'm sorry," Tezuka murmured. "I'm just a bit tired."

Ryoma seemed to take this into consideration, before he shrugged with a small smirk. "I'll get started on that stir-fry. The supermarket had a sale today, so I got a good deal," the younger man stated, moving back towards the kitchen. Tezuka relaxed, the ice that had been running through his veins warming considerably as he gazed at his lover.

This was the man he loved. Ryoma could be cocky and troublesome, but he was also considerate of Tezuka's hectic schedule, helpful when it mattered, and kind to Tezuka. He was gentle and loving in bed, eager to please and so devoted that Tezuka had seen him break hearts before they even had a chance to confess.

Tezuka felt even more unworthy of him.

After his shower, Tezuka pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt. He wanted to cover himself up so that Ryoma wouldn't have to see the disgusting mess that Tezuka imagined himself to be. They hadn't left any 'love marks', but he was heavily enough bruised from their possessive holds that Tezuka still looked like a mess. He didn't know what Ryoma had thought when he saw the bruises littering Tezuka's body, he could only hope the younger man would never question it. Tezuka may just break if he did.

Returning to the kitchen, he found Ryoma scraping out his stir-fry concoction onto a plate. Ryoma may have been a prodigious tennis player, a doting cat owner, a diligent student - but he he was simply abysmal at cooking.

Tezuka stared at the slightly-charred cabbage stir-fry with a blank face. "Was the sale on cabbage?"

Ryoma didn't meet his eyes, "Yeah."

"And _only_ cabbage?"

"...Yeah."

The stir-fried cabbage sizzled unpleasantly on his plate. It was dark and chunky, smelling strongly of sesame oil and ginger. Sometimes he wondered if Ryoma just picked spices and sauces at random, pouring it on to the food and hoping for the best. For some reason, the image of Ryoma being a Mad Scientist as he experimented mercilessly on their food floated up in Tezuka's mind.

Tezuka chuckled, and with a content smile, took a bite of the stir fry.

Ryoma's answering warm look made his subsequent offering to the porcelain gods completely worth it.

 

_

"So Billy looks like he's ready to blow chunks during the entire trip back," Kevin recounted irritably as Ryoma packed up his notebook. Their shared course on International Law had just ended, and after once ignoring Hanamura-sensei's creepy advances, they were free to go. "Which is fine, since he's sitting next to Michael, but then Baker just won't stop fuckin' lecturing us about embarrassing him because Terry wandered off while we were at the museum-"

Ryoma snorted, "What, he saw something shiny?"

"If by _'shiny'_ you mean _'a really hot guy that looked suspiciously like Professor Sakaki',_ then yes," Kevin said dryly.

"How illicit," Ryoma muttered.

Stepping out of the classroom and with every intention of getting something to eat before Kevin mauled him for food, Ryoma was unpleasantly accosted when a hand grabbed his arm and forced him to stop. Ryoma blinked up at the unwelcome person holding his limb hostage, staring up into a familiar smiling face.

"What the hell?" Kevin snapped, irritated that some stranger had just gotten all handy with his friend.

Yukimura gave the blond a casual glance before turning his attention back to his prey. "Ah, Ryoma-kun - we've been waiting for you."

Ryoma stared at him just as another figure stepped up beside the restaurant owner. A slender brunette with closed eyes and a mischievous smile on his face. He didn't look dangerous, at first glance, but Ryoma had become better at reading people back in high school - and could tell that the stranger was rather intimidating.

"I'm Fuji Syuusuke," the brunette said cheerfully. "Nice to meet you, Ryoma-kun. Seiichi has been telling me all about you."

Ryoma stared from one face to another as he came to a decision. Finally, he looked back up at Yukimura with bored eyes, "And who are you?"

Yukimura gaped at him.

Kevin looked away, body shaking from forcibly holding back his laughter. He severely doubted that Ryoma didn't actually know the blue-haired man - the fact that he hadn't irritably shook off the man's hold was testament to the fact - but obviously he didn't covet the attention.

"Try not to take it too hard," Kevin said in mock-comfort, his Japanese coming out stilted but understandable. "Ryoma just doesn't like to remember boring people."

Yukimura's eyes narrowed.

"Not 'boring', Kevin," Ryoma corrected with an air of long-suffering. "I have trouble remembering people. You're unintentionally insulting people again."

Kevin blinked wide, innocent eyes at them. _Who, me? The foreigner with terrible Japanese? Surely it was just a mistranslation! No harm was meant!_

"We would really like to talk to Ryoma alone," Fuji said in clear English.

Kevin batted his eyes at him. " _Everyone_ has wants, babe," he cooed. Fuji noticeably took a step back, blue eyes showing for a moment in alarm at the blond's husky tone.

Ryoma rolled his eyes. "Get lost, Kevin. Go find Billy and tell him all about the creepy men stalking me or something."

Kevin cackled as he pivoted and began to walk away, throwing up one hand in a farewell. "Remember to finish that essay for Professor Yamato after you're done having sticky homo sex~!"

Ryoma just huffed quietly as every eye in the hall turned to peer at their little group curiously. Yukimura and Fuji seemed to have been taken aback by the blond's lack of care for their surroundings and had froze, much to the younger boy's amusement.

"Hey, aren't we supposed to be talking?" Ryoma reminded them irritably. He couldn't believe that psycho creep from the bar had actually stalked him to school! And he knew none of his friends had told him any information, either, because they wouldn't dare risk Ryoma's wrath.

Yukimura nodded curtly, frowning slightly as he tugged the younger man along. Ryoma tolerated this for about two steps before shaking Yukimura's hand off with a glare. Fuji walked alongside him, looking ready to latch onto his arm should he try to run. Yukimura fell back another step to be on Ryoma's other side, trapping the younger man between them.

"Surprised to see me?" Yukimura asked after they had stepped through the front doors.

Ryoma didn't even look at him, "Your dick still work?"

Yukimura twitched in annoyance.

"If you guys don't mind, I'd like to have this conversation where plenty of people can see us," Ryoma said, stopping abruptly in the university's courtyard. Other students milled around, hardly giving them a glance, but at least he had the added security of not being viciously murdered right then and there.

The two men shared a look before, with identical smiles, turned back to him. Ryoma finally noticed the bag Fuji had slung over a shoulder as the brunette opened it up, pulling out two things that made the younger boy stare blankly.

"It's Knipschildt chocolate," Yukimura explained in the wake of Ryoma's baffled silence. "It's about 100,000 yen a pound. They're delicious truffles," the bar owner chirped.

"These are casablanca lillies," Fuji added, holding out a bouquet of beautiful, freshly-cut white flowers. "They've also been infused with about 40 gemstones and 10 diamonds, so it's about 80,000 yen."

Ryoma stared at them, taken utterly off-guard.

"Flowers and chocolates," Yukimura recited with a smirk, as the two men practically shoved the gifts into the younger male's hands. "Next is the giant teddy bear, yes?"

Ryoma stared at his gifts. Then, he took a very slow, deliberate step away from the two amused men. "You're insane," he told them calmly. He took another few steps away, keeping careful eyes on them before he pivoted and dashed off.

Fuji and Yukimura watched him take off with equally-damning smiles.

"You're right; he is cute," Fuji agreed.

Yukimura nodded, pleased with his lover's assessment. "He'll be worth the chase. Of course, I'll have to punish him for that stunt he pulled last time we met, but I'm sure that can wait until after we've captured him."

Fuji turned away, laughing lightly. "So we lure him in with honey?"

"Well, we did use all the vinegar on Tezuka-san, didn't we?" Yukimura pointed out.

"True, true."

 

_

As his hand at stir-fried cabbage seemed to be no good, Ryoma relegated himself to make instant-mix curry for dinner. Tossing the pre-cut veggies into the microwave to thaw, he picked up his cellphone and considered his options.

Tezuka had been acting strange for the past week. First off, they hadn't had sex at all - and while Tezuka may come home exhausted seemingly every day, he was still young and virile enough to have quite the sex drive. Ryoma wasn't new to the older man's exhaustion barring him from getting intimate, but a whole week of no sex was new to their relationship. Ryoma wasn't sure how to handle this unprecedented situation, not wanting to ask too much of Tezuka if this was just a result of the man being too tired from work.

Secondly, Tezuka had clammed up considerably. While the older man was by no means the chatty type (unless drunk, Ryoma had learned one night after he'd graduated from high school), Tezuka was hardly as withdrawn as he was acting now. There were more ways to communicate than just speaking, after all, but Tezuka spent more time thinking to himself when they were together and taking sinfully long showers. Just a few days ago Ryoma had found Tezuka staring at his own reflection in the mirror with absolutely no expression on his face.

Third, Tezuka had been working overtime nearly every night now. Sure, he usually worked overtime at least four days a week - but every day? He'd even went into work on Sunday after receiving a phone call from one of his coworkers! If this continued any longer, Tezuka would probably drop dead from overwork!

However, Ryoma wasn't an idiot. This entire episode of Tezuka's had started last Friday - so that's the day Ryoma was going to lay blame on. He just needed to find out why.

There were a variety of methods he could use to investigate. The easiest would be to ask Oishi, but Ryoma knew the man had been a little out of it for the past week because of his fight with Kikumaru. (When the two fought, Tezuka dealt with Oishi - and Ryoma got Kikumaru, because for some unfathomable reason, the redhead was fond of the snarky male.) This immediately crossed off the pair from his mental list. His alternative lay with two people he usually tried to avoid asking favors of - Inui and Dan. The former because the man made him promise to try the juices that even hapless bystanders rejected immediately, and the latter because post-high school, Dan had turned into one blackmailing little sonuvabitch that constantly flexed an information network worthy of arrest.

Deciding he'd rather be knocked unconscious by Inui's poisonous brews than enter indentured servitude with his peer, Ryoma called Inui.

_"Ryoma-kun?"_

"Yo, Inui-senpai," Ryoma greeted casually. "I have a question."

 _"Every question is worth one juice,"_ Inui stated automatically.

 _Asshole!_ Ryoma glared into empty space. "Fine, whatever. What happened last Friday?"

There was a general pause as Inui recounted said day. _"I'm assuming you mean in regards to possible answers for Tezuka's behavior this past week."_ Inui would notice, of course. _"Everything at work occurred at the same pace, so I'm 96 percent certain the cause does not lie there. However, after work we went to get a few drinks at a bar club Yagyuu recommended. It had good reviews - Black Sea is the bar's name."_

Now why did that sound familiar?

 _"Tezuka had already drunk more than half a bottle of vodka before I realized he had become inebriated. By that time, both the bar owner and his former junior high school classmate, Fuji, were sitting with him. He refused my offer to escort him home or even to stay over at my place. At that point, Oishi had already gone home to apologize to Kikumaru and I had to get home to Kaoru,"_ Inui explained monotonously. _"From what Renji has told me, he apparently left just after midnight, leaving Tezuka with Yagyuu, Sanada, Fuji, and Yukimura."_

Ryoma's eyes widened upon the last name. "Yukimura? The former captain of Rikkaidai?"

 _"Yes,"_ Inui said, startled that the younger boy had even remembered. _"He didn't appear to recognize either myself or Tezuka, however, even after we had been introduced."_ That Yukimura did not recognize Tezuka, Inui could understand; after all, during the Kantou tournament, Tezuka had been trying to recover from the injury done to his arm. During the Nationals where Seigaku had claimed first place, Yukimura had not been present - while the man's surgery to save him from some fatal illness had succeeded, he had still been unable to play tennis. The only chance they had of seeing each other was in passing, but never once had they had a conversation. Inui should have at least been recognizable to the former captain, but then again - it had been a long time. Sometimes high school felt like a world away.

The pieces were trying to click together for Ryoma - he just wasn't letting them. The very idea that Tezuka would cheat on him was ludicrous - Tezuka wouldn't be able to even stomach the idea.

But Ryoma had first-hand experience at how pushy Yukimura could be.

"So you left him there?" Ryoma asked, the question coming out much more sharply than he intended. Inui seemed to catch this, as there was a generous pause as the older man tried to figure out why this information would rile his former underclassman.

 _"Yes,"_ Inui said. _"Tezuka claimed he wanted to...reminisce with Fuji, and Yagyuu was still there and knew the others present. I had assumed he would... Ryoma-kun, do you think something happened with Fuji and Yukimura?"_

Ryoma scowled, finally recognizing the second name - the smiling brunette that had given him casablanca lillies. "I'm sure nothing happened. Thanks, senpai. I'll get back to you about when I'm free."

Ryoma hung up before Inui could inquire further. He glanced over to the cabinet drawer he had thrown all of those precious stones attached to the lillies; while he threw the flowers away once he'd been out of the sight of the creepy pair, he'd taken all of the jewels. (To reiterate - he was a _college student._ By natural rights, he was allowed to use any means and connections necessary to not starve or be crushed by mounting tuition bills.) He hadn't known what to do with the chocolates, worried they may have poisoned them or something, so he threw them in the garbage with the flora.

Ryoma looked unseeingly at the dubious curry bubbling on the stove. A small smirk appeared on his face a moment later.

"Next is the teddy bear, huh?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kevin has all my love too. His foul mouth can be attributed to his age and social standing - being a foreign exchange student is stressful, and he did grow up in the urban streets. The streets are not polite, and canon-Kevin always seems to act like he has a bone to pick with the world in general. XD
> 
> Note 1: 100,000¥ is a little less than $1,300 (US)/1,005 EUR. 80,000¥ is about $1,000 (US)/804 EUR. 
> 
> Note 2: The casablanca lily means celebration. We can all pretend that the deep meaning in them is that they are celebrating the first unifying motion of the OT6, or we can go with the truth in that the author just likes the flower. XD
> 
> Note 3: Yukimura's and Fuji's exchange about luring Ryoma with honey and Tezuka with vinegar. Derived from the saying "It's better to lure flies with honey, rather than vinegar." Basically, they're just saying they forced Tezuka to be with them (vinegar) but are actually trying to court/sweet-talk Ryoma in (honey). The flies lured in are killed in the end, by the way.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis.

It was nearing 11 p.m. now. Through the windows, a moon only ¾ full shone bright amongst the stars scattered about, hidden by the occasional cloud. The door to the balcony was wide open, letting in the smells of a freshly-watered lawn, roses, and a breeze that blew past the curtains and throughout the room. The night air was slightly cold due to the encroachment of winter, but it was a reprieve to those within the room.

The floor was made of pristine white tile, a pathway of lavish red rugs leading around the bed and towards the door and bathroom. A monster of a dresser lurched in one corner of the room, made of mahogany with wide mirrors stretched above it. The bed frame was made of the same wood, sturdy and unbending, the sheets a pure white with numerous pillows thrown about.

Tezuka exhaled shakily as Sanada finished, collapsing against Tezuka's back and panting heavily into the flesh of his neck.

Tezuka didn't bother to move away, aware of their still-joined bodies and aching everywhere. Sweat glistened across his skin, catching the chill in the air and cooling their feverish bodies. Tezuka's face was half-buried into one fluffy white pillow - which he had previously been clutching as a lifeline - as he tried to regain his breath.

Sanada placed a lingering kiss on the back of his neck. The answering shiver that ran down Tezuka's spine was not one of pleasure, but of contempt. Tezuka turned fully into the pillow, wondering if he could smother himself right then and there.

"Beautiful," Atobe applauded. The man was seated in an armchair next to the bed, afforded the greatest view of their previous activities. Tezuka could feel Sanada's deep chuckle against his back at his lover's praise and obvious enjoyment.

Three more days of this.

His superior had ordered him to go on a business trip to Yamaguchi with only very little instruction. The cover story was something about Atobe Bank opening up another branch there and needing a consultant from Matsura Offices. A five-day trip that Tezuka had to take alone. He hadn't been at all surprised when he'd been told, once he'd arrived at Yamaguchi, that plans were already in motion for the new branch, that the consultant was not needed, and that he was still expected to remain there 'just in case'.

The hotel he had reserved beforehand told him his reservation had been cancelled, and before he could argue or even get another one, he'd been forcibly taken up to the penthouse suite where both Atobe and Sanada waited.

"Gen, your body is as gorgeous as ever! And the way you _moved,"_ Atobe continued, eyeing his lover hungrily as his eyes brightened in appreciation. "And Kunimitsu, your moans were absolutely delicious. Ore-sama is pleased to know you are finally enjoying yourself here."

It took all of Tezuka's willpower not to glare at the other man for the use of his first name. That was a privilege very few were allowed to have, and if he had a choice, these people would definitely not be among them.

"Kunimitsu, you're tensing up again," Sanada chided softly. He punctuated his chastisement by trailing his tongue down Tezuka's nape, beginning to suck softly at the over-sensitized flesh at the juncture of neck and shoulder.

Round Two was brutal, if only because Sanada liked it rough and Atobe liked to have complete control. They fought in bed just as much as they bickered outside of it, only this time they used Tezuka as their own personal tool and weapon between them.

Only once they'd finally fallen asleep a few hours later did Tezuka dare to slip out of the bed. He walked shakily over to the joined bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him. For one moment, he didn't look up - too worried about what he'd see reflected back at him in the mirror. Instead he went to the sink and tried to gargle out the taste of Atobe in his mouth, downing nearly half a bottle of mouthwash in the process. Before he even bothered to clean out the semen from his bottom, he looked himself over in the mirror.

Faint circles in his eyes - between the guilt and the sex, he wasn't getting much sleep - and his hair was in complete disarray. Bite marks littered every part of his body because that damned Sanada liked to mark what he fucked, the most astonishing of which was the clear bite on his chest, directly over his heart. The symbolism was not lost on the office worker.

Tezuka bent over the sink and sobbed quietly.

 

_

"So then Oishi comes home with this giant bouquet of flowers, gets down on one knee - I really thought he was going to propose to me, Fujiko - and apologizes, nya! How could I stay mad at him? Oishi is so cute!" Kikumaru giggled, idly tapping his spoon against the empty parfait bowl.

Fuji smiled in response, knowing his redheaded friend didn't need his input to continue but providing it regardless: "How wonderful. I suppose you had the best make-up sex?"

Kikumaru flushed bright red, arms flailing as he tried and failed to stutter out a response to that. Fuji only chuckled, knowing that he'd thrown the other man off. They'd been good friends ever since they'd met back in university, and though Fuji's independent photography career had taken off while Kikumaru flip-flopped from one major to another, their friendship had never waned. Fuji was thankful for that; his life had taken on a particularly rocky trend ever since he'd entered high school, and it only seemed to get rockier as his life progressed.

That didn't mean he enjoyed hearing about the redhead's sickly-sweet love life, though.

"So how have you been?" Kikumaru asked, only a lingering pout on his lips.

Fuji shrugged, "I have another commission from that rising actor - Kajimoto Takahisa. But that's not for another month."

"How lucky, nya~! He's really cool looking!" Kikumaru chirped.

"Saa... I suppose so," Fuji allowed. "Oh, I also found a new toy. He's really cute."

Kikumaru frowned, already knowing what he meant by 'toy'. The redhead knew Fuji and his lovers had a habit of picking up and discarding people with little to no sympathy, but he'd always made no comment on it. Kikumaru knew his opinion would hold no importance to Fuji's lovers, and his judgment would not be appreciated by the brunette he called a friend.

Fuji had always been a little... _off,_ even back in college. The slender man had been single when they'd first met, and Kikumaru would be lying if he said he'd never had a small crush on him. But the minor infatuation had given way to friendship once he'd gotten to know the man, and then he'd met Oishi at a group date (to the disappointment of the girls that had been present) so all of his love went to his present object of affections.

Besides, as far as Kikumaru had seen, Fuji had no intentions of settling down. He'd went through one lover after another throughout their school career - it was rare for him to say no to anyone who'd asked. The one time Kikumaru had dared to ask if Fuji would ever find just one, his blue-eyed friend only laughed and told him, quite self-loathingly, _"I'd never be satisfied with just one. I'm a greedy man."_

Then he'd gone and proven it, hooking up with Atobe shortly after. When Fuji had rejected one advance after another, Kikumaru had almost believed Fuji had finally found the one he could love.

Then Sanada and Yukimura appeared, as if they were supposed to be there all along.

Kikumaru hadn't known what to think, then. The relationship was... _strange,_ to say the least. Part swinger, part polygamous - but entirely weird. For one whole year, the four had been inseparable; they rejected every other advance and every offer of joining, content with one another and - to their friends - actually in love. It was for that reason Kikumaru had not said anything about it; as long as his friend was happy, who was he to judge?

Then came along Koishikawa Kenjiro.

Kikumaru hadn't liked him - Koishikawa was bitter, and angry, and absolutely contemptuous. He'd joined Fuji and his lovers, and for awhile, they treated him like he truly belonged. Naturally, no one had seen it coming when they'd unceremoniously dumped him only one month later with absolutely no explanation besides that they'd tired of him.

Their friends had thought _'that was that'_ and _'He wasn't very likeable, anyway,'_ and nothing more was said on the matter. But then, only two weeks later, they picked up Kai Yuujirou (who lasted three weeks), then Hirakoba Rin (five weeks), Aoi Kentarou (two weeks), and on and on and on.

Kikumaru had kept his mouth shut, even after Fuji had betrayed his own little brother by seducing his then-boyfriend. (Yuuta never forgave and never forgot, a lesson Fuji learned far too late.) He'd even let Fuji sleep over at his place the night Kisarazu Atsushi killed himself in the bar Yukimura owned when the four lovers had been present. (Atsushi would never let them win, even if that meant he had to lose everything - including his life.) As far as the redhead was concerned, he was completely powerless; between Atobe's wealth, Fuji's connections, Sanada's strength, and Yukimura's cunning - what could Kikumaru do to save anyone? There was a reason he never let Oishi and Fuji meet, too scared to tempt fate. Fuji had a sadistic streak that he unleashed on anyone he wished, and Kikumaru wasn't going to lose the love of his life to his best friend's whim.

Once upon a time, Kikumaru had thought of asking Fuji 'why'. _'Why are you like this'_ or _'why do you do this to people'_ or _'why don't you care at all';_ but the chances of getting a straight answer were zero, and Kikumaru had learned that the best way to get information was to simply wait and watch, even if it meant watching his friend destroy person after person without care.

"Seiichi found him, actually. He's feisty and he has a foul mouth, but overall he's very appealing," Fuji continued on happily.

"He doesn't sound very fun," Kikumaru said carefully.

Fuji chuckled lightly. "He's very thrilling! Ryoma-kun won't be easy to woo, but Gen and Keigo already agreed after seeing his picture."

Kikumaru cocked his head questioningly. "Ryoma?"

"Takeuchi Ryoma," Fuji explained. "He's a university student at T-Uni, although we don't know what his major is yet-"

"It's Criminal Justice," Kikumaru cut in sharply, startling his normally-composed friend. Fuji's eyes snapped open, caught off-guard by not only this information and the person providing it, but also by the other man's tone. Fuji had never heard Kikumaru speak so... _icily,_ before.

"His major is Criminal Justice, with a minor in psychology and international studies. He's short and a brat, he has no tact, he says what he thinks, he never gets up on time," Kikumaru continued, voice getting angrier as he went. Blue eyes framed by bright red hair were particularly hard as they stared straight into Fuji's pair.

"And he's _taken,_ Fuji. He's found the love of his life already, and none of you are him," Kikumaru said. "Leave him alone."

Fuji's eyes slipped closed as his lips dipped into a frown. His friends usually had nothing to say to him about his conquests. Even now, Saeki had only good-naturedly told him good luck and little else. Fuji was accustomed to Kikumaru's half-hearted cheer about any more proverbial notches in the bedpost, so seeing his usually-jovial friend looking just shy of punching him was startlingly new.

"You know him, Eiji?" Fuji inquired softly.

Kikumaru huffed. "Of course I know him!" the redhead replied waspishly. It was amazing how utterly bitchy the man could sound when riled, Fuji thought privately. "He's the lover of Oishi's best friend!"

"Saa...how interesting," Fuji murmured.

"Ochibi has Tezuka, Fuji," Kikumaru said pointedly. "And I know he won't see anyone else. They've been together since high school, according to Oishi. They were all in the same tennis club."

Fuji's eyes snapped open again. Kikumaru talked often enough about Oishi that Fuji knew the man had attended Seishun Gakuen Senior High - the same school his junior high boyfriend had been accepted to. There could only be one tennis-loving, Seigaku-attending Tezuka in the world.

 _Tezuka Kunimitsu_ and _Takeuchi Ryoma_ were together.

Fuji closed his eyes, barely restraining himself from bursting into laughter. What could be more perfect? What were the chances? The man they were currently playing with, and his own lover would be their next conquest! Fuji couldn't stop smiling.

Kikumaru must have sensed something in that smile, as the redhead's expression darkened once more. "I mean it, Fuji - leave them alone. I like Ochibi, and if you hurt Tezuka, you hurt Oishi."

Kikumaru stood, using the height advantage to glare down at the brunette. "And if you hurt Oishi, _I will never forgive you."_

 

_

A business trip.

 _Like I'm really going to believe that!_ Ryoma thought spitefully. He had been in inner turmoil for the past three days now and it was starting to show. There was a faint shadow to his eyes that spoke of restless nights, increased irritability, and he'd even snapped at Horio yesterday after the other man wouldn't stop talking about this new drama he'd started watching.

The truth was, Ryoma didn't know what to think; he'd mostly accepted the fact that Tezuka had apparently had some drunken affair that one time. Ryoma wasn't going to blame the man for adultery, on account of the alcohol and the fact that Ryoma had a growing suspicion that both Yukimura and Fuji were a couple of forceful sluts. Then Tezuka had a business trip, the details of which he could not fully explain - and he hadn't called in the past three days. Ryoma had only received one text each day with a short message about how his lover was doing fine and how he had a lot of work to do.

A lot of work doing _nothing,_ as it turned out. Ryoma had heard from Inui that apparently Tezuka's role in Yamaguchi had been cut, but that he'd have to remain there the full five days for baffling reasons that Inui couldn't logically understand. Although, from the sound of it, Tezuka should have had plenty of free time for those five days - especially enough time to pick up one of Ryoma's calls. The nagging feeling that something very wrong was happening persisted and it bothered Ryoma each day of Tezuka's absence.

Drastic times called for drastic measures. Ryoma needed information: who was involved? How powerful were they? What did they want?

Information was costly. Ryoma tried to consider this as experience work for his future career (somehow), but he wasn't quite buying it himself. There was just something very unsettling about being able to buy information on just about anything and anyone for the right price.

Ryoma spotted his target idling near their university's library cafe, glancing at something in his notebook with a studious expression on his face. He was seated on a stone bench set apart from the busy sidewalk wound around the building - how very fortuitous. It wasn't lost on Ryoma that this was how the other man often conducted business with possible clients.

Ryoma took a seat next to him. Dan Taichi closed his notebook with a smile.

"Ryoma-kun! Finished with your Behavioral Psychology class already?" the petite male greeted brightly. "You're so lucky; Osamu-sensei always lets you guys get out early."

"That's because he keeps trying to 'coincidentally' meet Shiraishi-senpai in the halls," Ryoma returned in a deadpan. "But you already knew that. I have a job for you."

"That's rare," Dan mused.

Ryoma ignored him. "My boyfriend is cheating on me. Find out who he's with and what they're capable of."

Dan blinked up at him, shocked. "Tezuka-san is capable of _adultery?"_

 _Why am I not surprised he already knows who my lover is?_ Ryoma wondered dryly. "I thought it was a one-time thing, but he has a week-long business trip that should be, by all rights, cancelled. He hasn't called me once, only texted me once a day, and lately he's been coming home with weird bruises."

Dan kept his eyes straight ahead, in full-on business mode. He never made eye contact when he was calculating something in his head. "Nothing from Tezuka-san's history would suggest he was even capable of committing adultery. It goes against everything he stands for and believes in."

"I know," Ryoma snapped curtly. It was the only reason he wasn't breaking it off with Tezuka right then and there - it was too strange. Something else had to be going on.

Dan frowned. "I'll look into it. Anything else you know that's related?"

"A man named Fuji Syuusuke is involved; he was Tezuka's ex-boyfriend from junior high," Ryoma stated. "As well as Yukimura Seiichi, owner of the Black Sea bar and restaurant."

Dan took a moment to connect a face with the name. "You mean Shiita-kun's senpai? The pretty one with the wavy hair?"

"That's the bastard," Ryoma bit out.

Dan turned to stare at him. "Are you saying Tezuka-san cheated on you with _both_ of these men?"

"At the same time, too," Ryoma snorted. "That's also why it doesn't make any sense. If it had just been Fuji, then maybe it could be an old flame thing...but an orgy?"

Dan nodded, "That really doesn't make any sense at all. I'll look into it, Ryoma-kun."

There was a momentary pause, before a smirk began to curl Dan's lips. "Now, about the subject of payment..."

Ryoma groaned, "Sometimes, I really fucking hate you, Dan."

 

_

 _"I just need to know if Momo-senpai still has feeling for Tachibana An,"_ Dan had said cheerfully. _"Someone recently tasked me with finding out. It was either asking you or Kaidoh-senpai, so I guess I got lucky with you..."_

Sometimes Dan was just too nice for his own good.

All in all, Ryoma knew he had gotten off lightly with Dan's cost. There were many perks to being the man's friend, one of which was leniency when asking for favors. It helped that he'd known the other youth since their freshman year in high school, and even became something of a role model for him once he'd beaten Dan's current lover - Akutsu Jin - in a tennis match.

Then Ryoma's father had died, along with Ryoma's will to play tennis. Dan had been a godsend during that time, being one of the few not to question his decision - just accept it as the most natural thing in the world, thus starting a friendship that pushed both boys to be better.

Stepping past through the doors and out into the university courtyard, Ryoma almost choked on brown fur as something big, fuzzy, and plushy was unceremoniously shoved into his face. He pushed it away, startled, golden eyes forming into a glare at the answering chuckle this action earned him.

Yukimura, holding out a giant teddy bear, beamed at him.

Ryoma eyed him with something like wariness crossed over with contempt. "Don't you ever work? Your business is going to fail if you keep leaving your job to stalk unsuspecting university students."

"I'd hardly call you unsuspecting," Yukimura protested playfully.

Ryoma tried to walk past him, but Yukimura only fell into step with him as he continued out the school gates. Ryoma swallowed down the urge to ask where Fuji was, half-suspecting the other man to be in Yamaguchi with Tezuka.

"Ryoma-kun," Yukimura called with an audible pout. "Don't you like your teddy bear?"

Ryoma didn't even glance over at him. "I wanted one as big as a horse. That thing's only dog-sized, at best."

 _Brat! He's a complete brat!_ Yukimura groaned inwardly. If he'd known his newest target was going to be such a nitpick about the details, he'd have gotten a teddy bear as big as a goddamned giraffe.

"It's rude to reject a person's gift to you, Ryoma-kun," Yukimura chastised lightly.

"You'll get over it."

Yukimura had half a mind to hit the younger male with the stuffed animal. It was already hard enough to navigate the sidewalk with the giant plushie, and Ryoma's speedy walking pace certainly wasn't helping.

"Where are you off to in such a hurry?" Yukimura wondered aloud, losing some of his good cheer.

Ryoma smirked over at him. "Meeting a friend of mine. And there she is," Ryoma looked over pointedly at a pretty girl standing in front of a tea shop. She was slender, with fair skin and wearing short-shorts and a flattering blouse. Her stylishly-touseled light brown hair was done up in two loose pigtails, her manicured nails simple and trim. She was a beauty, but Yukimura wasn't interested in women - and he was fairly sure Ryoma wasn't either.

"Tomoka," Ryoma said abruptly, catching the girl's attention. She glanced between him and Yukimura in confusion, but before Yukimura could make his greeting or even before she could ask about him, the younger boy continued. "He's a _Sasabe."_

Confusion flickered across her face, before something _clicked_ and a small smirk broke across her lips. Almost instantly, she was at Yukimura's side; her previously-devious face morphed into one of disgusted terror. Ryoma had walked past them and towards the entrance of the tea shop without a backwards glance, so Yukimura was taken off guard when Tomoka laid one carefully-manicured hand against his chest and shoved.

"You _pervert! You're disgusting!"_ Tomoka cried, tearing up on cue. If he hadn't been the source of such a scene, Yukimura would have been honestly impressed by her acting skills. Tomoka pointed at him with such a look of fury and disgust that all bystanders in their immediate vicinity stopped to watch what was going on. "He tried to _feel me up!"_

There was a general outcry from the female populace, immediately followed by the men next to Yukimura grabbing on to him as if he'd try to run. Tomoka took a step back, looking visibly upset, practically melting back into the converging crowd that was clamoring for someone to call for police action against the pervert.

Even as he was forcibly shoved against the nearby wall to wait for a police officer to arrive, Yukimura managed to catch sight of Ryoma's smirking face as the youth walked off down the street, arm in arm with a giggling Tomoka.

The girl was carrying the giant teddy bear.

Yukimura's answering glare turned venomous. _Some people just aren't partial to honey, I suppose..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Think about it... Out of all of the freshmen in PoT, which one would likely be the most strategic? To me, it was wannabe-manager Dan Taichi. XD
> 
> Note 1: "He's a Sasabe." The Tomoka-and-Ryoma tactic. An example I took from real life. Basically, a person or event that left such an impression that just one word related to it triggers the appropriate response. My friends and I use it when we don't want people in our immediate vicinity to know what we're really saying, or even use it as a counter-argument. Usually a person or place. In this story, you are to assume that Sasabe was a person they wanted to get rid of, so they used a similar tactic, thus turning the event into a codeword.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: My complete ignorance on how the Japanese legal/police system works. (Do they get arrested for sexual harassment? I don't know. Pretend they do for this story. XD)
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis.

"So what exactly is going on?" Katsuo asked curiously, eyeing his friends over the rim of his coffee mug. Their usual group had convened at a lesser-known tea shop only about two blocks from their school for vaguely-explained reasons involving "avoiding Ryoma-kun's stalker" and "public disturbances resulting in police arrest." They had all taken the reasons in stride, having grown accustomed to their friend's penchant for garnering unwanted attention.

"We may or may not have gotten a very dangerous person arrested," Tomoka shrugged, carefree and smiling happily as she ate another spoonful of mint jelly.

Youhei raised an eyebrow at the admission. "May or may not have?"

"We ran off after framing him."

Dan hid a smile behind his steaming cup of honeydew tea, "You got Yukimura Seiichi arrested?"

Shiita abruptly choked on his bite of agehashi tofu.

"Wait, the guy who owns that bar we went to?" Katsuo asked, confusion coloring his tone. "Why? Do you have a grudge against him or something, Ryoma-kun?"

Ryoma snorted, eyes on his own drink. "There wouldn't be a problem if he just left me the fuck alone."

"He followed you to school?" Kouhei asked, eyes wide. "That's fucking creepy! Did he want revenge on you for kicking him in the balls last time?"

Kevin snickered, "You kicked some poor bastard in the nuts?"

"Don't you remember him? Those two guys who grabbed me after Hanamura's class?" Ryoma pointed out.

Kevin paused as he tried to recall. "You mean your two pretty little boyfriends? What, they disappointing lays or something?"

Ryoma rolled his eyes. "The one with the wavy hair tried to rape me in the bathroom," Cue Shiita once again choking, "And I'm pretty sure the brunette fucked my drunk boyfriend three weeks ago."

Silence descended among them, as most of them present tried to digest this freely-given information. Ryoma just looked bored as he waited, although Dan was watching each of his friends in turn, gauging their reaction to this news.

Kachirou recovered first. "Y-You have a boyfriend, Ryoma-kun?"

"He's had one since freshman year of high school," Dan interjected before Ryoma could answer. "Seigaku's former tennis club captain, Tezuka Kunimitsu."

Tomoka didn't look as shocked as she really should have been, but Horio made up for that by spluttering incoherently and pointing at Ryoma, utterly flabbergasted. Kachirou and Katsuo were staring at Ryoma in wide-eyed surprise, as Kintarou was obviously trying to remember why he recognized the name. Sakuno just blinked in shock - although she kind of half-suspected that Tezuka had been her high school crush's type. Many of them had been involved, in one way or another, in the high school tennis circuit - with the exception of Kevin.

"Should have seen that one coming," Tomoka mused absently.

"Now that we're all caught up-to-date," Dan continued on cheerfully. "We all understand Ryoma-kun's situation. He's being unwillingly solicited by Yukimura - former captain of Rikkaidai's tennis club and current owner of the Black Sea bar and restaurant."

Kouhei stared levelly at the petite boy, "Are you really giving us a mission briefing?"

"You _are,_ aren't you?" Youhei groused. "Oh god, this is going to be just like the Osaka trip!"

Kevin scowled, "I'm not gonna pay bail for any of you bastards again. My host family got way too overprotective because of that."

"Upon further investigation," Dan was doing an excellent job of ignoring his friends as he pulled out a folder from his backpack. "I found that Yukimura is already involved in a relationship with Sanada Genichirou."

Shiita nodded, "Everyone knew about them back in high school. I always thought they were pretty solid."

Dan's cheerful expression didn't change as he casually added, "As well as with Fuji Syuusuke and Atobe Keigo."

Cue another round of wide-eyed stares.

"Wait, _what?"_ Youhei asked.

"It's a foursome, from what I understand. They're loyal to each other, but they also have a penchant for picking up men and subsequently tossing them aside once they're satisfied," Dan explained patiently.

"Manwhore, much?" Tomoka snarked.

"That explains why Tezuka fucked both of them at the same time," Ryoma muttered, startling his peers. The male paused in consideration, golden eyes narrowing as realization dawned. "Sanada as well? I think Inui-senpai mentioned he was present that one Friday...so it was all three of them?"

"How could my senpai have fallen so low?" Shiita moaned into the tabletop.

"Wait, Atobe Keigo?" Tomoka interrupted, straightening up in alarm. "As in heir to Atobe Enerprises?"

Dan frowned as he gave a nod. Truthfully, while Yukimura, Sanada, and Fuji were accomplished and wealthy in their own rights, it was still at a level that could be subjugated by common forces such as the law or even a few unfortunate 'accidents'. Atobe, however, added a whole new level of danger by himself; with that kind of money came a terrifying amount of power.

"How the hell do you get involved with these kinds of people?" Katsuo groaned.

Ryoma scowled, "Rich people need better hobbies."

 

_

Sanada didn't know what it was about the continental breakfast that was earning Tezuka's baleful look - as the fruit was as fresh as humanly possible and the unburnt toast came with an assortment of spreads - but he almost felt like pitying the food. Behind the thin rim of his glasses, Tezuka was gifting his breakfast with such a dark stare that you'd think it had somehow offended him on a personal level.

Atobe cast the bespectacled man a wary look, "Would you prefer something else for breakfast, Kunimitsu?"

Tezuka shook his head, eyes still rooted to the harmless fruit set about his plate. He was methodically cutting his melon into tiny little portions with a kind of malicious glee that could be _felt_ rather than seen.

"There's cereal," Sanada offered. "Or Japanese-style breakfast."

"This is fine," Tezuka said, voice perfectly bland. The look in his eyes was practically arctic, however.

Atobe looked ready to dispute that but he was interrupted by the ringing of his cellphone. From the ringtone, Sanada knew it was one of their lovers; he only hoped Yukimura and Fuji had not gotten into too much trouble while both he and Atobe were occupied with Tezuka in Yamaguchi. Yukimura had declined joining them in favor of wooing the college student he'd recently found, while Fuji had been busy with work.

Atobe answered his phone hastily, greeting Fuji on the other line. Sanada returned his attention back to Tezuka, who had paused in his fruit massacre to watch Atobe. The bar manager blinked at the sheer amount of icy hatred concentrated in Tezuka's eyes - all just for Atobe.

 _So it wasn't the food,_ Sanada mused. _It's the company._

Sanada didn't know why Tezuka was making this situation so hard. People would have died to be in his place, after all; having four rich lovers that were entirely capable of fulfilling any need, whether it be sexual or financial, and all being gorgeous to boot. Who would turn that down?

Well, Kisarazu Atsushi had been one. But surely the man had been unstable - why else would he slit his own throat in a full bar? Tezuka was level-headed. He should be able to see the clear advantages in having the four of them as lovers and appreciate their affection, for however long it lasted.

"He's _what?"_ Atobe snapped, eyes wide and lips twisted into a snarl. "For _what?_...The brat tricked him? How?... yes, I see... I'll get him out. I can easily pull a few strings...yes. And Syuusuke, keep an eye on that brat, will you? No one messes with us... Of course. Bye."

Sanada rose an eyebrow at his lover, a silent inquiry.

Atobe was already dialing on his cellphone. "Seiichi was arrested for sexual harassment," the man explained distractedly.

Both men were startled when Tezuka choked out a laugh.

 

_

Dan was a man on a mission. A mission that happened to involve a very close friend of his and a few troublesome individuals who had enough money and power to get away with practically anything. As such, Dan knew he needed to figure out just how much they were capable of - not financially, but psychologically and physically.

Finding out such information wasn't easy. Between the shady business venture of a restaurant owner and manager, a world-famous photographer, and the heir of a billion-dollar company - everything private that wasn't trumpeted by the media was shrouded in mystery. Dan was most curious that the strange relationship had yet to be discovered by the media - they seemed content with the knowledge that Atobe was only dating Fuji Syuusuke and was just "really good friends" with Yukimura and Sanada - but even moreso that the heir's playboy tendencies were regarded as completely normal. Dan knew of such playboys in his own university, but they only broke hearts - the foursome _broke people._

So Dan relied on the only people who could see past the money, past the masks, past the glamour - former victims.

Dan came to a stop outside of apartment 306, staring at the dark wood of the door for a long moment. His connections could only get him so far, and while he could rely on his information network for the data, there were times where he had to take the initiative first.

Ryoma's safety was important; Dan would do anything to help his friend.

With two sharp knocks on the door, Dan calmly waited. There were a few clicks of locks being unfastened before the door opened a crack, the chain lock stretching just enough so Dan could see half a face peering at him curiously. Round, dark eyes set in a plainly attractive face, although the male was dressed in jeans and a black turtleneck sweater.

"Aoi Kentarou?" Dan asked politely. The man nodded, eyes narrowing in suspicion. "I'm Dan Taichi. I need to talk to you about - certain people you used to know."

"Who?" Aoi asked, sounding tired but obstinate.

"Atobe Keigo. Fuji Syuusuke. Yukimura Seiichi. Sanada Genichirou."

The door was abruptly shut, locks clicking closed in answer. Dan's eyes widened at the response before he pounded on the door a few times - in hopes of just keeping the other man's attention. "Wait, Aoi-san! Please!"

"Go away!" came the muffled response.

"Please, Aoi-san! I need to talk to you!" Dan yelled back. "They're after my friend - and he doesn't want them! I need to know how to get them to leave him alone! _Aoi-san, please!"_

There was a considerable pause as silence reigned. Dan didn't really want to get his boyfriend involved, but he would get Akutsu to come down here and kick the door open if he really had to. Dan didn't want to torment Aoi for such information but Ryoma's safety was Dan's first priority in this matter. If that meant scaring the answers out of Aoi Kentarou, Dan would sink that low.

Fortunately, Dan didn't have to resort to desperate measures. The locks were unfastened and the door opened slowly, Aoi eyeing him warily. He gave Dan a once-over before opening the door entirely, letting the other male eye him in kind.

Dan's eyes widened at the jagged scar slashed down half of Aoi's face. It twisted half his facial features into something grotesque, a startling contrast to the unharmed, attractive quality of the other half of his face.

Aoi grinned at him; half his face faux-cheerful, the other half a mess of lip and lopsided. "Yeah, it disgusted them too," Aoi said happily. "None of them could look me in the eye after the accident."

Dan's eyes remained on the scar. "You were in a car accident late July last year..."

"You certainly do your research, don't you?" Aoi chuckled. "And that's your answer then. You want to save your friend from them?"

He leaned forward, matching the petite man's stare with a maniac's grin. "Make him as hideous on the outside as they are on the inside. They can't bear to look at the truth of who they really are, after all."

 

_

"So you expect me to mutilate myself?" Ryoma asked dryly, holding the cellphone to his ear with his shoulder as he threw the two trashbags he held into the dumpster. He had just gotten off work from the cafe - so he'd called Dan to check up on how the investigation was going.

 _"Of course not,"_ Dan replied. _"Besides, that was just how Aoi got away."_

"You mean how he got dumped," Ryoma scoffed.

 _"I'll follow some other leads. Hopefully some of the other men they've gone after have different suggestions,"_ Dan said.

"Alright. Thanks," Ryoma said, catching sight of the lithe figure leaned against the lightpost stationed in front of his job. "I'll talk to you later. Looks like they found out where I worked."

Ryoma hung up before Dan could respond. He pocketed his phone with a sigh, shooting a glare over at the brunette man as he stood and walked over to the college student. Ryoma noted that, unlike usual, Fuji wasn't smiling. _Good, _Ryoma sneered inwardly.__

"You seem to be quite the troublemaker, Ryoma-kun," Fuji greeted casually.

Ryoma walked by him without a word. Not to be deterred, Fuji followed, falling into step with the younger man and gripping the boy's wrist to keep him near. Ryoma shot him a contemptuous look but neither stopped or slowed his pace, seemingly unconcerned.

"Seiichi has already been bailed out," Fuji continued, voice turning icy. "He really wants to see you."

"I'm flattered," Ryoma replied in a tone that suggested he really wasn't. "But unfortunately, I'm in a hurry. I'm sure there's a pregnant woman somewhere out there that needs my help getting to the hospital."

Fuji blinked at the fib, surprised the boy could say it with such a straight face. "Why a pregnant woman...?"

"Why not?" Ryoma returned. "You shouldn't discriminate, Fuji-san."

"Regardless, I'm afraid labouring pregnant ladies will have to rely on themselves to get to the hospital," Fuji said, tightening his hold on the younger boy's arm and starting to pull him along. "I know you haven't eaten dinner."

Ryoma stared at him, too shocked to resist as the man pulled him along. "Dinner? As in a _candlelit dinner?_ Are you fucking serious?" Ryoma growled. "I can't believe you freaks are still trying to-"

Fuji unceremoniously shoved him into a waiting limo, climbing in behind him and motioning for the driver to step on it. The vehicle pulled away from the curb, starting down the street despite Ryoma's anger-fuelled protests.

"This is fuckin' _kidnapping,_ you psycho!" Ryoma growled, trying to keep his distance from the other male. He'd shoved himself in the corner nearest the divider between the back and the driver, although the small window between them was rolled up. The windows were so darkly tinted that no one could see inside the limo, much to Ryoma's concern.

"We're just going on a little date, Ryoma-kun," Fuji said calmly, a smile turning his lips as he reclined comfortably in his seat. "Don't be such a drama queen."

Ryoma answered that by picking up a shotglass from the limo's minibar and throwing it at Fuji. The photographer dodged, launching forward to grab the youth's wrists. Ryoma kicked out at that point but wasn't able to make contact; Fuji straddled the boy's lap, avoiding making himself vulnerable to Ryoma's legs and pinning the younger man's arms to the side. Ryoma glared up at him, testing Fuji's hold on his arms - the photographer was surprisingly strong.

"Not that I'm complaining about this new position," Fuji purred, eyes open and voice low. "But I think this drive would have been a lot more comfortable for you if you hadn't thrown a tantrum."

"I'd spit on you, if I didn't think that would turn you on," Ryoma replied coldly.

Fuji twitched. "You're quite the charmer, aren't you?"

Ryoma's response to that - likely another cutting rebuke - died in his throat as Fuji applied more pressure to his grip on the younger man's arms, just as he leaned forward and settled his lips over Ryoma's. Golden eyes widened at the sheer gall of the man; Ryoma froze only briefly before biting back - literally.

Fuji pulled back, sapphire eyes narrowed as a thin trail of blood dripped from the bite on his lips. Ryoma glared back, his own lips smeared with a bit of crimson.

The blue-eyed man smiled, "That wasn't very nice, Ryoma-kun."

Then Fuji backhanded him.

Ryoma was stunned for one moment, but then realized what Fuji had done - he'd slapped him _yet he'd also made a crucial mistake._ Ryoma stomped down on the urge to smirk, instead looking up through his bangs at the older man. Fuji - blue eyes open, careless smile still on his lips - met his eyes with no worry.

Fuji cocked his head in curiousity at the suddenly docile boy. _So he only needs to be punished a little?_ Fuji mused. Perhaps now they could get a better handle on the college student; he'd been driving Fuji nuts with his unpredictable behaviour.

"Did you know, Fuji-san?" Ryoma began casually. "That I'm actually left-handed?"

Fuji's eyes widened as he realized what that meant - but he was too late to dodge. Ryoma delivered a punch straight into the photographer's face. Fuji was knocked backwards, pain blossoming over the hit and blood running from his nose. Ryoma launched forward, straddling the older male's lap and punching him again. Fuji caught his fist this time before the hit could land, gritting his teeth as he attempted to push the younger man off of him.

Ryoma attempted to free his hand from Fuji's grip but was unsuccessful. Fuji jerked him forward, knocking Ryoma off-balance and causing the boy to fall forward - narrowly missing Fuji's chin with his head. Fuji wound his arms tight around Ryoma's upper-arms, locking them in place; Ryoma scratched and clawed feebly at Fuji's sides, pounding uselessly against them every now and then. Realizing he was having no effect, he used his position at Fuji's collarbone to bite at the flesh until he drew blood.

Fuji's intake of breath had seemed like a small victory on Ryoma's part, but the photographer's arms had only tightened in response. Ryoma started, letting go of the wounded area when he realized it - Fuji was getting _turned on._

 _"What the fuck is wrong with you?"_ Ryoma screeched, fighting back but noticeably not attempting to bite the man again.

Fuji chuckled breathlessly, unperturbed by the trickle of blood dripping down from his collarbone. The pain actually made the pleasure that much more stark, so he couldn't help his body's natural reaction to it. "You're a very attractive man, Ryoma-kun - surely I am not the first man to react to you like this?"

Ryoma didn't bother replying to that. Instead, he was trying to figure out a way to kick Fuji where it really hurt, but couldn't really move - much less shimmy further up the brunet's body. He was seriously debating bashing his head into the older man's chest for however long it took for one of them to relent, but this ridiculous plan wasn't given much more thought as the limo drew to a stop in front of their destination.

The driver pulled open the door for them, looking alarmed at their position - and especially at Fuji's state. The photographer's face was smeared with blood and the angry red mark over his cheek was surely going to leave an awful bruise, not to mention the bite mark near his neck.

"Taki-san, if you'd be kind enough to get Kabaji? I have a feeling Ryoma-kun will need some help out of the car," Fuji suggested cheerfully.

"I'm going to _break your fucking arm_ if you don't let me go," Ryoma bit out furiously.

Fuji didn't seem concerned. The driver disappeared for just a moment, quickly returning with a tall, muscled man whose face remained perfectly blank as he easily pulled Ryoma off of Fuji and out of the vehicle. For the brief moment between the limo and - _a restaurant?_ Ryoma recognized, shocked - the college student tried to scream out for help. Unfortunately, the area in front of the restaurant was devoid of pedestrians, and he was pulled through the entrance with little trouble.

Kabaji manhandled him down a long hallway. The waiters and waitresses of the establishment dutifully avoided his path, never giving Ryoma a second glance - as if this was something they saw every day. Ryoma figured they were probably paid to mind their own business, even if what their customers were doing was basically a crime.

Kabaji pushed him into a dimly-lit room. The floor was made of polished dark wood, the walls cream-colored with hanging plants and large portraits of abstract art. there was a dining table in the center, the tablecloth a stark white and a dinner set prepared for three people. A large, ornamental candelabra was lit atop the table, alighting upon the tray of crackers and cheeses set tastefully next to it.

Yukimura, sitting in one of the three available chairs, smiled at the college student as Kabaji forced Ryoma into the chair next to the blue-haired man. Ryoma glared back, a scowl on his lips but unresisting - Kabaji had enough power to break him in half if he wanted to, it seemed.

"How was the trip, Ryoma-kun?" Yukimura asked brightly. "Did you like the limo?"

Ryoma was unimpressed, "Go fuck yourself."

Fuji entered the private room at that point; he'd been cleaning himself up in order to look more presentable. The red hue on his cheek had yet to fade, however, and there was still a noticeable cut along his bottom lip. The bite mark on his chest had been covered with a bandage. Yukimura's eyes widened at the sight of his lover looking so freshly beat-up, "What happened, Syuusuke?"

Fuji cast the annoyed college student an amused look, "Foreplay."

Yukimura switched his stare over to an unrepentant Ryoma. "Kabaji-kun, please take away Ryoma-kun's cutlery...and perhaps the candelabra as well. We'll just use the electric lights."

Kabaji did as instructed. Ryoma didn't know whether to be worried they had taken away most of his weapons, or amused that they showed such obvious concern about his hostility. "How am I supposed to eat when you've taken away my silverware? Or should I go medieval?"

"We'll feed you," Fuji answered airily.

Ryoma's scowl returned full-force, " _No._ I don't know where your hands have been - what if you had been giving a handjob to some stranger in the bathroom?"

"Despite what you seem to think, Ryoma-kun, I am not so loose in my attentions," Fuji said dryly. Ryoma's snort was all that was needed to show what the younger man clearly thought of _that._

Yukimura leaned forward, hands clasped in front of him and set atop the table. "Won't you have a bite to eat, Ryoma-kun? We had this dinner prepared just for you."

Ryoma glared back, "You're fucking insane and I hope you get thrown into jail again."

Yukimura hummed noncommittally, "That was an interesting first for me. Thankfully Keigo had the connections to get me out in less than four hours."

Ryoma recognized a thinly-veiled threat when he heard one. The message Yukimura was telling him was clear: _no matter what happened, legal action would fail against him._ But Ryoma already knew that; Dan's investigation had revealed that once they'd discovered Atobe Keigo's involvement. The only way to get through this was to make Yukimura and his cohorts lose interest in him, but Ryoma just couldn't shake them - they were all obviously seriously disturbed.

Two waiters entered at that point. One held several wine bottles that both Yukimura and Fuji took their time choosing from; the other was setting down several different types of appetizers and taking away the cheese and crackers. Ryoma hardly recognized any of the food set before him, although he couldn't deny that they all looked and smelled absolutely delicious.

"Oysters with pink peppercorn mignonette," Yukimura patiently explained, as he began to point out each dish. "Mixed olive tapenade, cucumber gazpacho with shrimp relish, mushroom and parmigiano bruschetta, potatoes with cream fraiche and bacon, and smoked salmon roulades."

Ryoma bit down on the urge to pluck a little (or a lot) of each dish to devour; it really was a shame to waste such nice food, but he was not only prideful - he was also a victim of kidnapping. He was not going to give his kidnappers the satisfaction of playing right into their hands. "Is this a bad time to mention I only like Japanese cuisine?"

Both men valiantly stopped their irritated flinches.

"You should expand your horizons, then," Fuji advised.

Ryoma looked at his nails in disinterest, "My horizons are perfectly fine where they are."

Yukimura took a generous sip of his wine. There were downsides to pursuing Takeuchi Ryoma - one was the college student's ability to get a rise out of them. The younger male had the innate ability to irritate them over the most surprising of matters at times.

Fuji set a few of the appetizers that could be eaten by hand on Ryoma's plate, opening his blue eyes to pin the boy with a look that promised painful retribution should he not at least try one. Ryoma only stared back condescendingly.

"Perhaps Ryoma-kun would prefer to receive it from my mouth...?" Fuji suggested dangerously. Ryoma's eyes widened and he grit his teeth in disgust at the thought.

Looking almost pained, Ryoma tried a small bite of each dish. As expected, they all tasted wonderful - he almost wanted to finish each morsel but his pride wouldn't let him. He could practically feel an entire generation of starving college students crying out at passing on such delicious food.

The waiters came back to retrieve the uneaten appetizers and replace it with what Ryoma guessed to be the main course. "Spinach fettucine with prawns," Fuji explained dutifully as he put a little of each on the younger man's plate. "Shrimp and crabmeat au gratin, roast cornish game hen with fruit stuffing, lobster tails poached in butter, and sage-chive steak with arugula salad."

 _A bite won't hurt,_ Ryoma thought. There was no way, in his entire life, he could try such exquisite food by himself. Fuji and Yukimura had already taken their own portions of the meal. Although the younger boy looked annoyed, he didn't ignore the proffered portions each man gave him.

They ate in relative silence - Ryoma refusing to contribute anything to the conversation, Fuji and Yukimura chatting lightly about unimportant things. The two men took turns on spoon-feeding the college student, much to Ryoma's shame. He had made an earlier attempt to grab any type of silverware from both men but he'd been instantly rebutted. Yukimura and Fuji just looked utterly pleased as they fed him, to Ryoma's annoyance - their smiles were entering smug-territory at this point.

Ryoma ignored Fuji's next proffered bite to him, picking up his steak with his hand and munching on it with a superior glare shot to his two dining-mates. Fuji just looked on in amusement while Yukimura took another sip from his wineglass. They both looked so graceful and composed as they ate, especially in comparison to Ryoma's hands-only method. The golden-eyed boy spared a moment to be annoyed by this.

The waiters returned to retrieve their empty plates and dishes, as well as to give Ryoma a wet rag to clean himself with. Dessert was set before them in short time; a small, moist chocolate cake for each of them, covered in an assortment of berries and mixed caramel and chocolate sauce. Fuji and Yukimura took a bite of their own in contentment, before the photographer reached over to give Ryoma a spoonful of the boy's own cake. Ryoma deliberated on using his hands but it looked like it was actually chocolate lava cake; the inside was still steaming hot, from the way the smoke rose from both of Fuji's and Yukimura's cakes.

Ryoma reluctantly ate the spoonful. The chocolate practically melted on his tongue, setting his tastebuds aflame in appreciation. The strawberry piece that had been mixed in gave it a sweet, tangy flavor that had Ryoma almost demanding another bite immediately.

Fuji and Yukimura paused long enough for Ryoma to realize something was wrong. Both men were watching him with hawk-like interest, the smiles on their faces resembling a cat that had finally eaten the canary.

 _"What?"_ Ryoma growled suspiciously.

Yukimura chuckled, pushing Ryoma's dessert plate out of his reach. "You only needed to take one bite. The drug is quite strong."

 _Oh,_ the younger boy thought as his mind began to cloud and his gaze grew dark. _Dammit._

Ryoma slumped forward onto the table, unconscious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Of course you all needed a cliffhanger. How could I not give you one? -evil smile-
> 
> And the drug used by YukiFuji on Ryoma? Let's call it Imaginary Date-Rape Drug (IDRD) because I don't think anything could work that fast in that small of a bite.
> 
> To clarify: All Ryoma knows about Tezuka's interactions with the foursome is that he had sex with them once on that Friday night when he was drunk. After that, it's speculation; he doesn't know for sure if Tezuka is continuing to cheat on him, or whether it is consensual or not.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: (for this chapter) rape, drug use, drug-induced sex, water-based torture
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis.
> 
> Pairings: (for this chapter) SanaAtoTezu, YukiFujiyo

"We're extending your stay for a couple of days," Atobe stated primly, legs crossed as he reclined into the armchair. He had one hand holding a full wineglass that he took leisurely sips from, wearing only a pair of pants and his hair still slightly damp from his shower.

Tezuka didn't say anything. He was curled up atop the bed, tangled in the stark white sheets with one arm covering his face from view. Naked from head to toe, bite marks and bruises from their tight grips littered his entire body in open view. Sanada couldn't help but glance over them in appreciation, proud of his handiwork; he was standing by the open patio door, letting the late morning air filter into the room.

"Kunimitsu," Atobe began, giving the man a concerned look. "Aren't you going to clean yourself up?"

Still no response from Tezuka, other than the arm shielding his face being lowered so he could peer at the wall with unseeing eyes. Slowly, he picked himself up from the bed; his movements were sluggish, dulled by both physical exertion and a rising sense of nausea.

Tezuka felt like a shadow of what he once was – a reliable worker and doting boyfriend. Now it was like someone had stripped him of every emotion he held, leaving only a wealth of loathing. However, all of his hatred was directed, for the most part, at himself: the fool who got so drunk he cheated on his lover, the coward who submitted to blackmail, the degenerate who continued to lie to his most important person. Tezuka felt he deserved all of this – his body being used and his spirit being crushed bit by bit.

After that second day, Tezuka had spent an hour in the morning - Atobe curled up next to him, Sanada's arm thrown over his midsection in a lover's hold - contemplating the open balcony door. People have died from jumping from 1 km. They were 25 stories up.

"Kunimitsu?"

Tezuka glanced over at Sanada - or the Sanada-blur, courtesy of his lack of glasses - before standing up. His legs only managed to retain enough strength to support his shuffle to the bathroom part-way, but Sanada had already hooked an arm around his waist and helped him the rest of the way. The bar manager didn't even bother with shutting the door - what's the point in modesty when Atobe has seen every inch of their bodies?

Sanada gently settled Tezuka on the rim of the Jacuzzi-bathtub, starting the water and checking the temperature as it filled. Parallel to the bathtub and directly in front of Tezuka was the sink - and with it the two-meter wide mirror. The tub itself was set on a platform five steps high, so that it could afford the breathtaking view from the window to the side - and so that engaging couples could find their activities on display in the mirror itself.

Tezuka stared straight at his reflection. What about him was so appealing that they wouldn't leave him alone? If he looked as awful as he felt, than he had to be one of the most hideous people alive.

The ludicrously large bathroom was filled with the faint scent of sandalwood as Sanada added some to the bathwater. He picked Tezuka up and lifted him into the tub. The water was warm and smelled nice, already at chest-level and lined faintly with bubbles. Sanada allowed the faucet to continue pouring as he stripped off his own pants and climbed in.

Water brushed further up as extra mass was added. Tezuka leaned back, head against the soft cushion as Sanada settled himself comfortably between the salaryman's legs, capturing Tezuka's lips in a wet kiss.

Sanada had one hand on the back of his neck and an arm wrapped around his waist, as if he were going to pull Tezuka as physically close to him as possible. The office worker was pliant and near-deadweight in his hands, but that only made it easier to bridge the watery gap between them.

Tezuka's eyes remained open, gaze fixated past Sanada's shoulder and on a painting hanging on the wall like some afterthought to aristocratic tastes. An old-fashioned ship rocked dangerously atop the blue waves in the picture, numerous white sails billowing in the wind as seagulls drifted among the cloudy day-lit skies of the backdrop.

When Tezuka was little, his grandfather used to take him fishing. _(Sanada's tongue swiped at his bottom lip before pushing in, running along Tezuka's own.)_ He remembered being absolutely miserable back then - even though he didn't complain or fidget; he just kept his face blank and his eyes sharp. _(One tan hand settled between them, sliding along Tezuka's length - the flesh began to stiffen, encouraged by the wanton lust that its owner could not fully comprehend.)_ He had found himself bored to death as he waited for the fish to bite, staring into the depths of the lake. _(The pumping of Sanada's hand increased as he broke their kiss to draw his tongue down the side of Tezuka's neck, nipping at the flesh.)_ The faint ripples in the water had only slightly distorted the reflection of his own face peering back at him, hair lit by the sun and face shadowed by the darkness of the lake depths.

Tezuka let his head roll back and to the side as Sanada began to make more marks upon the flesh of his neck. The sound of splashing water was pounding unnaturally loud in his ears, heat coiling in his groin as his breathing quickened. His hands - involuntarily? It was so hard to tell within the suffocating heat of the water and steam - were clawing into Sanada's back and along his sides as the pace of the man's hand picked up.

He found himself once again looking at the mirror. Staring back at him was his own visage, head thrown back in pleasure, body clinging to the man that had been raping him for the past four days. Sanada forced his head to face forward in order to engage him in another kiss. Tezuka's toes curled, his hands wrapping around Sanada's torso and fingernails digging into the other man's flesh as pleasure tore through his body.

Tezuka broke the kiss himself as he climaxed, turning and biting the junction between Sanada's neck and shoulder - just to restrain the bout of hysterical laughter that began to bubble up in his throat.

 

X

 

It was the smell that woke him. Salty and fresh, like it had been carried free across great distances. The breeze that moved strands of hair across his face was warm, the sounds in the background only the calls of birds and dull crashing.

Ryoma knew where he was before he opened his eyes.

He had been in-and-out of it for what had likely been several hours, never quite coherent enough to protest as he was carried along. He remembered the sound of helicopter blades chopping in the wind, remembered the feeling of landing not quite gently enough, of hands on him as his clothes were pulled off.

Ryoma sat up, first taking note of his person. He was wearing simple jeans and a plain, white button-up shirt. It was disconcerting they had clothes in his size, Ryoma noted; then again, it was obvious from the drugging that this entire thing had been premeditated. He entertained the notion of suing them for all of this but he wasn't naive enough to believe something like a felony crime could touch anything related to the great Atobe Keigo. (It was quite astonishing, how much hatred Ryoma had for a man that he had never even met.) Also, from the intimate feel of the clothes on his skin, they hadn't bothered with underwear; Ryoma felt several knots tie up in his stomach at the revelation.

He took in his surroundings. He was lying on a three-seater white couch; matching armchairs and a white marble coffee table were adjacent and parallel to the couch, all standing in an otherwise vacant room with light-colored wood flooring. It was the walls that gained his attention - they were made completely of glass (or what he assumed to be glass, considering they were clear), permitting into view the beach shore, heavy drapes pulled back and to the side. A door lead into the next room with equally clear walls, where a small dining room and kitchen were visible. Past that was an equally large room where a lone bed – giant, though it was - stood with clean white sheets and a multitude of pillows, as well as a dark-paneled room that blocked sight from the outside. By the sheer process of elimination, Ryoma knew it to be the bathroom.

A beach house.

"This is their version of a romantic walk on the beach?" Ryoma muttered, getting up from the couch. He couldn't place what the drug was from the post-effects, but he could rule out chloroform.

He didn't see either of his kidnappers, so he went into the kitchen. At the very least, he could arm himself; even a spoon would be better than nothing. (It would look stupid if he brandished it as a weapon, but he'd like to see either of them laugh as he tried to gouge out an eye with it.)

He checked the drawers first - but none of them opened. Each and every cupboard and drawer had been padlocked shut, along with the fridge and dishwasher. The stove was electric but a keypad had it locked on 'OFF', the oven door was the same, and the bastards had even taken the time to nail or otherwise permanently glue anything handy to a surface so it couldn't be wielded. Ryoma glared down at one of the dining table's chairs - they'd nailed them in place, too.

"We didn't quite trust you not to use any of the furniture as weapons."

Ryoma whirled around, jerking back at the sight of the two older men. They both looked amused at his reaction but had yet to move from where they stood in front of the doorway, eyeing Ryoma with sharp smiles and predatory eyes.

Ryoma pivoted and ran straight into the bedroom, just to realize there was no door. The door to the bathroom was actually _locked shut_. Ryoma had one hand on the doorknob to the patio door as Fuji and Yukimura calmly followed him into the bedroom.

"We're on an island, Ryoma-kun," Fuji informed him cheerfully. "One we personally own. It's only about 1.7 km across - and we're the only ones here."

"...You bought an island?" The incredulousness could be heard in Ryoma's voice.

The two men seemed inordinately pleased at his shock. They used his unguarded moment - _Who buys an island to walk on the beach?_ \- to each grab a hold of one arm and drag him out the door and down onto the shore.

The sand was fine and warm beneath his feet as he kicked out in a vain attempt to get free, his shoulders aching as he lost his footing and was hoisted away. "Wait! _Wait!"_ Ryoma called out desperately, still struggling to emancipate himself from their vice grips.

"Procrastination is a terrible habit, Ryoma-kun," Yukimura replied serenely.

When his feet hit the soaked grains of sand as the tide receded back, Ryoma really began to panic. "Stop! _Let go_ \- I hate the beach! I _hate_ it!"

Both men froze, turning to stare down at the younger male, flabbergasted. Ryoma was still trying to get loose but with each wave of water that lapped harmlessly at his toes, his flailing began again more vigorously.

"But you said you wanted-" Fuji began before he was cut off by his captive.

"Because that's what you see in those cheesy romance movies!" Ryoma snapped back. "I didn't know I'd have a couple psychopaths trying to accomplish that list of chick-flick clichés!"

Yukimura frowned just as Ryoma managed to twist out of his grip, but before the boy could take off, Fuji shoved him back - and deeper into the tide. Ryoma jumped up like he'd been bitten by some unseen creature, eyes wide as he lurched forward. However, both men grabbed onto him again before he could take a step away from the water.

"Let me _go_ , you fuckin' psychos!" Ryoma snapped, twisting to no avail. He tried shoving either man back, but that only tightened their hold on him. While his growing hysteria made his movements more erratic and desperation pushed him to struggle harder, it wasn't enough to put up much of a fight for two men who were not only bigger than him, but much more calm as they took in his state.

Fuji's smile widened as he connected the dots, "Ryoma-kun - you can't swim?"

Ryoma didn't deign that with a response. Yukimura and Fuji shared a look, identical smiles gracing their lips as they decided their next course of action. Without hesitation, they dragged the younger boy further into the water.

Ryoma's thrashing intensified, his snapping protests devolving into inarticulate sounds of panic. The sound was like music to the two's ears; seeing the normally-composed youth in this state was quite a treat to them.

"Stop!" Ryoma screamed out. "Stop stop stop STOP! _Let me GO!"_

Fuji and Yukimura traded another sly look.

"Okay," Fuji shrugged.

They abruptly released him - Ryoma was completely submerged in water. He surfaced a second later, thrashing wildly as he tried to gain footing on the slick ocean floor. Even though the water only came up to his collarbones, it was high enough that it set off panic bells in his mind. Ryoma began to move in the direction of the beach, choking on seawater. It was getting harder to breath now, panic setting in as he tried to make it back to dry land.

A hand grabbed his wrist and pulled him back, fully submerging him again and cutting off his yelp. He surfaced again and spat out the seawater, the salty taste clinging to his tongue and stinging his eyes. His arms and legs were becoming stiffer, as if too afraid to propel him back to the beach, while his lungs burned from the combination of swimming and gripping fear. He'd only gotten another step forward before he was pulled back again by Yukimura's hand.

"Stop!" Ryoma cried out. He was pushed back under a rolling wave. Once he surfaced again, he tried to yank free from the man's hold. Yukimura abruptly released him as he gave a particular hard tug, plunging him back under the waves.

Fuji's hand settled on the younger man's shoulders, holding him under the water for a few seconds before pulling him back up to the surface. Ryoma hacked out the seawater, hands trying to cling to the photographer. Yukimura easily pulled the boy off, forcing him back under the water and cutting off another cry.

Fuji laughed as Ryoma broke the surface again, coughing violently. "Let's make a deal, Ryoma-kun," Fuji offered. Yukimura kept his grip on the boy's wrist, but Ryoma wasn't even trying to escape now, instead attempting to maintain his balance in the water as he trembled violently.

 _"Fuck you!"_ Ryoma snapped back.

Yukimura pushed him back under and held him there for ten seconds. He pulled Ryoma back up, the boy clinging to his arm with wild eyes and taking gasping breaths.

It felt like every part of him was screaming. Ryoma's muscles burned, his lungs burned, his heart was thudding painfully in his chest and he couldn't seem to breathe. Panic overrode everything, his vision blurred by saltwater – _tears or the ocean?_ \- and he could almost hear that familiar mocking laughter ringing in his ears.

 _"No more! Please stop!"_ Ryoma pleaded, noticeably on the verge of tears.

"Only if you make the deal with us," Fuji retorted.

Yukimura pushed him back into the water when he took too long to answer. Ryoma surfaced, clinging to Yukimura's side and hacking out the excess water.

 _"Anything, please – just stop!"_ Ryoma agreed, digging his nails into Yukimura's skin as if that alone would keep him above water.

Yukimura pulled him back close enough to the shore that the water only reached just under their ankles. Fuji was right behind them, smiling pleasantly as Ryoma helplessly stumbled along under Yukimura's hands. Ryoma managed to gain his footing just as Yukimura turned around. The older man's smile was damning in its own right.

That is, before Ryoma launched forward and socked him in the jaw.

Yukimura stumbled a few steps black, stunned from the hit. It was a reaction Ryma really couldn't help – a reflex honed by both experience and anger. Every survival alarm in him screamed at him to do anything to escape his captors – hadn't he learned the first time around? The ocean was unforgiving.

Ryoma tried to run forward - even if it was an island, there had to be _somewhere_ to hide - but his escape plan was cut short when Fuji tackled him from behind. Ryoma landed face-forward in the receding tide, half his face smashed into the sand as the photographer pinned his flailing limbs down.

The taste of the seawater as the tide flowed in set off every panic alarm again, forcing the college student closer to a mental breakdown. _"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please, don't! I'm sorry!"_ Ryoma screamed out, trying to twist himself free of Fuji's hold.

Fuji chuckled humorlessly, "You hate the ocean that much?"

Yukimura leaned over the trapped youth, the smile on his lips looking near-demonic. "Although that's none too surprising, ne?" he purred. _"Echizen Ryoma-kun."_

Ryoma stilled, eyes wide. The name he had abandoned combined with the salty taste of the sea in his mouth made him nauseous, his vision blinded by his tears.

_Why didn't anyone hear him scream?_

Yukimura and Fuji looked at each other during their captive's sudden silence, apparently coming to a conclusion when with a synchronized sigh, they stood - pulling along Ryoma. They practically frog-marched the younger male back to the beach house, pulling him through the bedroom and into the bathroom without pause.

"I really do think we spoil you," Yukimura mused as they pushed the boy further in and locked the bathroom door behind him with a key, which he then attached to the string necklace hung around his throat.

Now, away from the beach and everything it represented, Ryoma tried to regain his scattered wits. He couldn't stop trembling, however, and was all-too-aware of Fuji's bruising hold on his arm, of his own powerlessness in this situation. The smell of the ocean clung to his skin- a fact that only further unhinged him – but it was nothing compared to the fresh cotton smell of the sterilized bathroom.

It was an impressive bathroom, to say the least; the floor and walls were of a pale wood. The toilet lay behind a tall panel of wood, which the sink was attached to. The bathtub and shower were the most impressive parts - if the bathtub could still be called a "bathtub", considering it was more like a small pool. It was just shy of a meter deep, the bottom made of gray-blue and white tiles. The faucet head was like an elongated crane's, with two dials set to the side. The shower was about 30 cm deep with matted flooring, while the showerhead was fastened to the ceiling to give the water a freefall effect.

Between both were two stark white sofas, each one facing either the shower or the bathtub. Their purpose was obvious, to Ryoma's growing apprehension.

"We really should just have our way with you, especially with the way you've been acting," Fuji sighed - the smile never leaving his lips. "But you're the kind of man who needs to be spoiled first, aren't you, Ryoma-kun?"

Fuji had moved over to the shower, turning it on and adjusting the temperature. Steam began to rise as the water dropped in a waterfall-effect, the drops spattering on the matted flooring. Fuji took out two bottles - shampoo and conditioner - as well as a sponge. Both men settled themselves on the sofa facing the shower.

"Time to uphold your part of the deal, Ryoma-kun," Fuji started cheerfully.

Yukimura smirked at the boy, "Put on a nice little show for us, ne?"

 

X

 

Tezuka wasn't allowed to walk about freely. The moment he stepped out of the hotel room, he was shadowed by a trio of Atobe's personal guards; men dressed in suits that kept a close eye on him. Tezuka didn't know why they were so intent on following his every move - he could never escape. Atobe could easily manipulate everyone from Tezuka's boss to his landlord.

Today, Atobe had left the hotel - citing he had business elsewhere. Given that he had shot Sanada a significant look, Tezuka had resigned himself to the idea that they were planning something terrible for him.

Sanada had dragged out Tezuka for a small shopping trip. They'd stopped at a bookstore first, Sanada falling into a light debate with the office worker about crime genre cliches after he'd found out they both liked the same author. They had a short lunch at a nearby cafe, then decided to visit some tourist traps - including making soba noodles by hand.

As their handmade soba became dinner, Sanada decided a nice end to their date - Tezuka tried not to flinch at Sanada's absent-minded labelling - would be to let loose at a club. The club itself was owned by the cousin of one of Atobe's friends. Oshitari Kenya had greeted them at the door, giving Tezuka a once-over before apparently mentally filing him away as the foursome's newest fling.

The club's general theme seemed to be set between 'lascivious' and 'antiquated'. Victorian-style art and furniture were crowded into the lounge, a mix of lush sofas and beds - most of which were occupied. The bar was situated in the far back, taking up an entire wall and manned by ten bartenders dressed in identical suits. The entire room was bathed in a dull blue light, with colorful rings occasionally flickering on and off, set to the low hum of club music.

Kenya had escorted them to a more private area; a raised platform set above the usual crowd, affording them a better view where a lone bed stood. It was partly sectioned-off by a beaded curtain and a small table was set up nearby with a wide assortment of hard liquor.

"So you've seen Yuushi recently, right? How is he?" Kenya asked light-heartedly, pouring Sanada and Tezuka a glass. The two men had taken a seat on the bed, although Tezuka's attention had turned to the throng of people on the club floor.

"We just saw him last week," Sanada replied. "Gakuto is keeping him busy."

"Mukahi is so high-maintenance!"

Sanada shrugged, "Keigo is the same way."

Kenya laughed.

"Oh, that reminds me," the club owner began. "About that thing Yukimura wanted - I found some information. Can you come to my office for a moment? I have it on USB."

Sanada nodded, glancing back at Tezuka as he stood. "I'll be right back, Kunimitsu. Why don't you have a drink?"

Both men left, leaving Tezuka to stare at the table full of drinks. The usual bodyguard escorts were stationed by the exits, the office worker knew well enough, so he was alone up on the dais. The sight of the vodka made him ill as he remembered this entire miserable situation had begun from his inebriated state.

" _Aww-_ they left such a handsome guy like you alone?"

Tezuka half-turned, staring at the man standing at the top of the stairs. He was dressed in black slacks and a light blue dress shirt, his dirty blond hair stylishly-tousled as a smirk settled across his handsome features. Through the open, half-rolled sleeves of his shirt, Tezuka could make out bandages wrapped around his left arm.

"Can I help you?" Sometimes, Tezuka really hated how polite manners had been ground into him.

"I'm just here to save you from boredom~" the man said, sauntering forward. "I couldn't help but notice you - you're quite a striking man, did you know that? - but I guess it was that utterly agonized expression that _really_ drew me in."

Tezuka stared up at him. The man grinned, tapping the office worker on the nose playfully. "Ah, and there it is. That _'save me, save me, Shiraishi-sama~'_ look!" the man crooned.

Tezuka's gaze turned flat, unimpressed. Shiraishi laughed, white teeth shining and eyes looking much more predatory. "You may not believe me, but I'm a liberator! Here to free you from your earthly bonds and show you a world where there is no sadness or pain - just love!"

Tezuka turned away, fully creeped out, "Leave."

"Don't be like that!" Shiraishi chuckled. "Didn't I say I'd liberate you? Well, not from Sanada - _everyone_ knows that he and everything he's attached to are inescapable - but I _can_ free you from your state of mind."

Shiraishi sat down next to Tezuka, sifting through his pockets. "When it comes down to it, don't you want to be anywhere but here?"

Tezuka watched him guardedly, "And how are you going to free me, exactly?"

With a triumphant grin, Shiraishi pulled out a small plastic bag half-filled with an assortment of colored candies. "In the only way you can be freed," Shiraishi answered with a leer.

He placed one of the candies in Tezuka's hand. Under the blue fluorescence, the candy shined dully, a vitamin-blue with the imprint of an anchor etched into the surface. Tezuka knew what it was, in an abstract way - but it felt surreal to be holding it in a club, trapped by circumstances out of his control.

"MDMA," Tezuka murmured. _Commonly referred to as ecstasy._

Shiraishi grinned, leaning against the other man. "The happy pill, ne~ Take it and leave all your troubles behind!"

"And how is this going to _free_ me?" Tezuka ground out.

Shiraishi winked at him, standing abruptly. "The only thing keeping you chained down is your mind, right? Lose that and you're free! Oh, and stick to water - it doesn't sit well with alcohol, you know."

Shiraishi began to descend down the stairs, throwing up one hand in a farewell. "That one is on me. Come see me again if you want more, ne? _Tezuka Kunimitsu-san."_

Shiraishi blended back into the crowds on the floor. Tezuka stared at the pill in his hand. MDMA had a vast array of effects - it induced euphoria, increased intimacy with others, and brought down anxiety. On the other hand, it could also lead to increased paranoia and engineer terrifying hallucinations.

Tezuka felt the music from the club thrum throughout his body. He could hear Sanada's and Kenya's voices as they began to ascend to the dais, and with each step, it felt as if one more chain was locking into place. He knew he deserved these invisible shackles, but surely for just a little while…

Shiraishi was right - all Tezuka wanted was an escape.

The bespectacled man placed the pill in his mouth, uncapping a water bottle from the sidetable and drinking it down. For a moment, it felt as if it had been lodged into his throat - as if his conscience was physically trying to stop him from sinking any lower than he already had. But a second swig of water took care of that feeling, as well as the dryness in his throat. Sanada and Kenya crested the last step just as Tezuka capped the water bottle.

 

X

 

Some part of Ryoma couldn't believe this was happening. The rest of him was too busy being torn between disgust, horror, and anger - so much so that the act of just restraining himself was making him tremble from head-to-toe. (Or, at least, that's what he'd convinced himself was making him tremble.) How desperate could they get?

"Do I look like a stripper to you?" Ryoma ground out. "I don't know what kind of show you're expecting, but I am _not_ exotic dancer material."

"I'm sure you'll improvise easily enough," Fuji put in. "You're a clever man."

Yukimura smiled harmlessly, "Just do your best to seduce us, Ryoma-kun."

The very idea made him sick. Ryoma looked away from their pleasantly-smiling faces, concentrating on the shower instead. Reluctantly, he reached for the buttons of his shirt and un-did them one by one.

"Now really, Ryoma-kun," Yukimura spoke up plaintively. "That's not even trying."

Ryoma ground his teeth together, "And how do you make unbuttoning a shirt _seductive?"_

The two men were not impressed by his point. "At least take off your shirt in a sexy way," Fuji ordered with a pout.

"This is so stupid!" Ryoma hissed. He flung off his shirt with a scowl - ignoring the pair's visible disappointment. He turned his back on them, working at the fastening to his jeans. He didn't get farther than undoing the button when he felt one of them come up behind him.

"Play nice now, Ryoma-kun," Yukimura murmured. Placing his hands atop the youth's shoulders, he slowly slid them down; past the elbows, down the fingertips, settling them precariously on his hips. He guided Ryoma to turn around, so that Fuji - still sitting on the sofa, legs crossed and lips smiling - could see the college student's front.

Yukimura's hands traced over the younger man's torso, tracing the outlines of his abdomen and lightly scraping his nipples. Ryoma ground his teeth to keep silent in reaction, glaring at the wall as Yukimura's wandering appendages settled on the zipper of his jeans and slowly undid it.

Fuji giggled from the couch, "Ryoma-kun's expression says he really isn't enjoying this, Sei-kun."

"That's because Ryoma-kun is a brat," Yukimura said candidly. He tugged said man's jeans off in one fluid motion. Ryoma stepped out of the pooled pants; Yukimura kicked them into the corner and out of the way. Left in nothing but his own skin, Ryoma kept his eyes on the wall and off of the two men as they evaluated his naked form.

"Get in the shower now, Ryoma-kun," Yukimura ordered softly.

 

X

 

"You didn't like any of the drinks?" Kenya asked, smiling lopsidedly at the office worker. "Man, tough crowd."

"I'm not a heavy drinker," Tezuka answered smoothly.

Sanada reclined back onto the bed, resting against the headboard. He held a shotglass full of liquor, which he drank in one smooth motion before re-filling the cup. Tezuka remained where he'd been left, perched on the side of the bed and clutching the water bottle.

How long did it take MDMA to take effect? He'd learned such information from Ryoma; his boyfriend had made him help in his studying, running through a list of drugs and their effects. How long it took to take effect, visible signs, short-term effects of drug use, long term effects, withdrawal symptoms...

It began, oddly enough, in the tips of his fingers. It was warmth that spread out, a heat that pulsed throughout his body. It dehydrated his throat - he finished off the entire water bottle in only a few minutes - but the heat was...pleasurable. The heaviness on his shoulders and the constriction in his heart both lightened considerably, seemingly evaporating. For what felt like the first time in ages, a smile began to curl his lips.

"Kunimitsu?"

Tezuka blinked at Sanada's suddenly close proximity. The other man was looking him straight in the face, concern clearly displayed. Tezuka didn't know why the man was so tense; the music was pounding throughout the club, after all, so naturally Tezuka had begun to sway to it.

"Kunimitsu," Sanada began, voice growing harder, "Are you _high?"_

Kenya let out a string of curses. _"Dammit-_ I told them not to let that bastard in! He always manages to drug up my goddamn clientele!"

Sanada glared over at the club owner. "Explain. _Now,"_ he ordered, voice turning icy.

Tezuka couldn't understand Sanada's worsening temperament. It wasn't very enjoyable - but the man's breach of his personal bubble allowed the office worker to enjoy the other male's body heat.

"Sanada," Tezuka began, hand curling around the back of Sanada's neck. "You have nice skin."

"An old...acquaintance of mine," Kenya explained, eyeing the office worker in vague amusement. "He's a dealer. Mostly in X; which looks to be what he gave your friend..."

Sanada was trying to fend off Tezuka's wandering hands. The bespectacled man wasn't put off, just calmly and persistently trying to explore Sanada's flesh once the man's grip slackened even the slightest bit.

"You might as well enjoy it," Kenya informed the man dryly. "I would think an affectionate Tezuka-san is rare. Have a nice time - I have a drug-dealing asshole to catch."

"You smell nice," Tezuka informed Sanada, laying his head on the man's shoulder, face buried into the side of his neck. That's when Sanada's composure snapped; there was no way he was going to let an eager Tezuka go to waste.

Tezuka found himself pinned to the bed a moment later, Sanada looming over him. He was initiated into a passionate kiss, which Tezuka fully returned. His glasses were digging painfully into his face, but Sanada withdrew long enough to pull them off and set them aside. Tezuka took the moment to try and free Sanada from the confines of his shirt.

"Not enough skin," Tezuka mumbled. Sanada practically ripped his shirt off in an effort to comply with the man's demand, leaning back in for another kiss.

 

X

 

Ryoma slowly trudged over to the shower, standing directly under the water. He had his back to the two men, but that didn't last long; Yukimura maneuvered him so that Fuji could see his profile from the side.

"Sei-kun, here's the shampoo and conditioner," Fuji said, tossing his lover said bottles.

Yukimura caught them, first uncapping the shampoo and squeezing some into his hand. Ryoma watched him with narrowed eyes, but Yukimura only ignored him as he reached forward and ran his soapy fingers through the younger man's hair. He was surprisingly gentle, massaging the shampoo into Ryoma's hair then allowing the water to rinse it out. He repeated the process with the conditioner, fingers lingering in the younger man's hair for a moment longer.

"The body wash," Fuji said, approaching the two. He set another bottle and a sponge by the shower before returning to his seat on the sofa. He wasn't smiling any more, and his eyes were open as he watched the two before him - with a hungry look in his eyes, Ryoma recognized.

Yukimura squeezed some of the body wash onto the sponge, slicking it up with bubbles and gently starting to scrub at Ryoma's skin. He started from the nape, working his way over the shoulders, down each arm, over the collarbone and the planes of the boy's chest. Ryoma tried to pretend nothing was happening - golden eyes open and trying to see anything but the other man.

With all of his ministrations combined with their prior activities on the beach, Yukimura was soaking wet. The sleeves of his shirt had been rolled back, but the material clung to the lines of his body like a second skin. His jeans were soaked through, clinging to his groin in quite the eye-catching manner. His dark blue hair - still wet - had been pushed back behind his ears as he worked, drawing more attention to his pale, flawless skin and beautiful features.

Except for the slight red hue to his skin from where Ryoma had punched him.

"That's quite an intense stare, Ryoma-kun," Yukimura said; the sponge rubbed at the angle of his hips. "Seeing something you like?"

Ryoma smirked, cocky and arrogant. "Yeah - your face is almost tolerable if it's bruised."

Yukimura's playful mood evaporated instantly. Ryoma didn't quite know how he could tell, as the smile on the man's lips was still present, but he wasn't given a chance to remark about it. With a small cry that he couldn't choke back in time, Ryoma involuntarily clutched at the front of Yukimura's chest, golden eyes wide as he trembled.

"That was a cute sound," Fuji commented.

Yukimura chuckled, twisting his finger deeper into the trembling male clinging to him. Ryoma gave a breathless cry, much to both men's satisfaction. "He's much cuter this way, isn't he?"

"You bastard," Ryoma managed out. Yukimura hummed noncommittally in response, withdrawing his soap-slicked digit before pushing it back in. Ryoma remained quiet, jaw clenched tightly. Yukimura slipped in another finger, eliciting a low groan; Ryoma's grip on his shirt turned white-knuckled, most of his weight against Yukimura.

"Your body accepts the intrusion easily," Yukimura mused. "Your boyfriend must have thoroughly trained you, ne, Ryoma-kun?"

Yukimura scissored his fingers, cutting off Ryoma's response; he knew the boy well enough now to recognize the look in his eyes when he was ready to throw insults around. Ryoma choked out a gasp, the entire length of his body pressed pleasingly against Yukimura. Through his clothes, he could feel everything; the hard definition of the boy's body, the stiff length pressed against his hip bone.

Yukimura languidly added another finger, alternately pulling them out, thrusting them back in, and stretching the hole. Ryoma was having trouble keeping himself steady, leaning completely on Yukimura and breath coming in short puffs.

"You're really enjoying this," Yukimura teased.

"You smell gross," Ryoma informed him. His voice only trembled a little.

"I apologize, Your Highness," Yukimura retorted dryly. He drove home the sarcasm by adding a fourth finger.

 _Just go ahead and fist me, you fucking sadist!_ Ryoma screamed internally. Even though the man's fingers were slick with soap, there was no gentleness in his ministrations. Ryoma was only familiar with Tezuka, and his lover was kind, always taking so long to prepare Ryoma that the younger man would grow anxious.

Yukimura had no such reservations. There was nothing soft and sweet in his touch - just lust and greed.

"Your technique really sucks," Ryoma grunted.

Yukimura froze, affronted. His fingers had pulled out at that point, allowing Ryoma to yank the sponge still clutched in the man's other hand away - and smacking it straight into Yukimura's face. He shoved the man back - Yukimura was temporarily blinded by the stinging soap residue in his eyes - just as he yanked the necklace off of the blue-haired man's neck.

Ryoma turned, evading Fuji - who had made a lunge for him. The photographer pivoted, grabbing on to the boy's arm and trying to wrench him back. Bare feet slipping against the floor, Ryoma fell back into Fuji's arms, but he'd applied enough weight to his momentum that he knocked the air out of the other man.

The two males rolled about on the floor; Fuji trying to pin the college student down, Ryoma trying to punch the photographer into submission. Ryoma had managed to land hits on Fuji's abdomen and face, but the photographer had his left arm pinned down and was practically straddling him.

Ryoma took a page from Karupin and clawed at Fuji's face; unfortunately, his nails weren't as sharp as his cat's, but there were some definite scratch marks on Fuji's left cheek now. Fuji grabbed Ryoma's right wrist and forced it down, gripping it so tightly Ryoma could feel the restricted blood flow.

"Since you want to be so vicious," Fuji murmured, before leaning down. Ryoma felt hot breath hover over his chest - before teeth closed over the flesh and bit _hard._

 _"Ow!"_ Ryoma cried out, flailing anew. This only seemed to tug on the skin that Fuji was still gleefully biting down on. "That _hurts,_ you bastard! _The fu-_ Let go!"

Fuji withdrew slightly, kissing the wound he had made. Some blood trailed out, staining his lips red in the process. Fuji moved over to the other side, biting down again. Ryoma screamed out at that, trying to hold still - not wanting to accidentally tear out his own flesh. Fuji lavished that mark in kisses as well, slowly moving along Ryoma's chest.

"Ah."

Ryoma blinked, surprised to find his previous vision blurry. Yukimura stood over him, peering down with slightly red eyes but an amused face.

"Syuusuke, you're making our little prince cry," Yukimura faux-chastised. "Didn't we agree to spoil him first?"

Fuji stopped, leaning back over Ryoma with a smile. His lips were smeared with crimson, and every mark the man had placed stung viciously. Now that he was lying still, Ryoma could feel the sore pain in his butt, along with the exhaustion in his muscles from the activities on the beach. It probably didn't help he had gone through so much after being drugged - the moment he was forced to rest, his body went lethargic.

Still, Ryoma was a survivor; he knew he was the kind of person to fight with everything he had even if there was only a small chance of succeeding. He had to grasp that miniscule chance, because he could simply not let it go - Ryoma wanted to live by his own rules, not anyone else's.

Ryoma head-butted Fuji in the chin. The photographer made a shocked grunt combined with a pained yelp as he reeled back, allowing Ryoma to throw him off. The top of his head hurt like a bitch now, but the pain wasn't enough to keep him down. He ignored the bleeding bite marks on his chest as he shoved past Yukimura, throwing the man off balance to land on the floor.

Ryoma jammed the key into the lock, unlocking it. He seriously hoped he had the master key; if he could lock the two men inside the bathroom, that meant he could go snooping through the house for a means to communicate with the outside world. There was no way they could be completely cut off - at the very least, there should be a landline phone in case of emergencies. If it was bolted shut or had a keypad lock, he'd just have to keep the two men locked inside the bathroom long enough to bargain their freedom with his own.

Just as he got the door to open, he found himself looking into the shocked face of a stranger.

Gray eyes narrowed as they took in the scene. The man was as tall as Tezuka, with silver hair and a beauty mark under his right eye. Everything about his posture screamed wealth and confidence, despite how casual his outfit looked: light denim jeans and a white shirt with a bamboo-green overshirt.

Ryoma had paused too long in his surprise; two pairs of hands grabbed onto his arms and shoulders, pulling him back into the bathroom and restraining his movements.

"Keigo, love," Fuji greeted brightly, slightly out of breath. He must have cut quite the picture: the injuries from Ryoma the day previous, combined with all the new ones made his face look bloodied and bruised. "I'm so happy you could join us. We're just giving our new pet a bath."

Yukimura laughed; it was a light, tinkling sound that froze the marrow in Ryoma's bones. "Yes, but our bratty little prince isn't too fond of baths," the man mused. With his eyes still slightly red, he looked better off than Fuji - but he'd been shoved back hard enough a couple of times that his back ached from all the hard landings.

"He's more like a feral cat, really," Fuji added.

Keigo rose an eyebrow, eyes sweeping over Ryoma's form; blood was smeared all over his chest from Fuji's previous activity, he was hunched over, and he was glaring through his bangs at the silver-haired male.

"I didn't realize it would be quite so lively," Atobe drawled.

 _So this is the great Atobe Keigo,_ Ryoma inwardly sneered.

"So they haven't broken you in yet?" Atobe asked the younger male. Ryoma's eyes narrowed into a darker glare. "Ore-sama will deign to lend a hand, then."

Ryoma straightened up, managing to pull a cocky smirk over his lips as he glared over at the other man.

"You mean to train me?" Ryoma scoffed. "I don't see how I can learn anything from a _monkey."_

Atobe blinked, before silver eyes narrowed. "What did you just call Ore-sama, you brat?"

Ryoma gave him the most dismissive look he could muster, "Oh, pardon me, _Your Majesty._ Is the great _Monkey King_ hard of hearing?"

Atobe backhanded him. Ryoma spit blood onto the man's face in retaliation.

Yukimura smiled at Fuji over Ryoma's head, "They'll get along just fine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...at least I gave you guys Shiraishi! -innocent look- And yes, he has a backstory-subplot.
> 
> Questions, criticisms? Review~! Comments? REVIEW~!

**Author's Note:**

> So if you hadn't gleaned it from this chapter - yes, the SanaAtoYukiFuji are a nasty, nasty bunch. (Atobe's busy so he couldn't play in this chapter...) You know what they say: "All men are wolves~" Seriously, though; it's going to get pretty messed up from this chapter on.
> 
> On another note: I totally took Artistic Liberties with drunk Tezuka. I am also oddly fond of drunk Tezuka...


End file.
